Demon Song

19

There were three cars parked at the guesthouse, but no people were visible. As I pulled in, I spotted Inez slowly climbing the stairs back to the main house.

Oh, shit. She’d let them in. Great. They were probably pawing through my stuff right now.

Nah. They wouldn’t do that. Would they?

At least the house was still standing and the walls weren’t melting … yet. That was a plus. I wasn’t as emotional anymore, either. Apparently aggression isn’t the only thing that happens when I get hungry. The people at the Italian restaurant had probably never seen a weepy vampire before. Interestingly, spaghetti with marinara sauce isn’t half-bad in a blender. Definitely on the keeper list.

But my emotions weren’t in perfect order, because my stomach did flip-flops when I saw two men watching me arrive from my own living-room window. So when I parked the SUV next to a rental Mustang that was as red as a certain Ferrari but not as fast, it wasn’t much of a struggle to answer the cell phone when it rang. Dawna let out a clucking noise and leaned next to my ear to whisper as she was getting out, “Chicken.”

I shooed her away. Adriana had an amused look that said she agreed with Dawna. Just what I needed—two amoral compasses. I pressed the green button as both doors shut and they walked toward the house. “Celia Graves.”

“Afternoon, Ms. Graves. It’s Mick Murphy.”

It wasn’t Monday. “I’m sorry, Mr. Murphy, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to those people yet. Didn’t we say we’d talk tomorrow?”

“We did. Yes, ma’am. But something interesting came up and I thought you’d want to know about it.”

Okay, that got me curious. I got out of the car and started to walk toward the stairs … not to climb them to the door but to stand under them where there was shade. It was December, but I was suddenly dying in the car. It hadn’t really hit me until the breeze stopped moving and I started sweating. But out in the open air a cool wind took away the heat and the sounds of gulls and of waves crashing against the rocks calmed me. “Tell me about it.” And please take a long time doing it.

“Well, I got a call today from an older gentleman named Nathan Fulbright. His family has been in the county for generations, but I’d never really talked to him before. Called me right out of the blue and offered to sell me his ranch. The interesting part is he’s asking the exact amount of money Ms. Cooper is leaving me.”

Really. I let my sneakers sink into the soft sand and rested my tail against one of the stair treads while I thought. “Did the amount you’re getting appear in the local papers or make the rumor mills?”

“No, ma’am. That’s why I thought it was significant. Gave me a shiver right up my spine. Most of the people around town think I’m getting a million or so. Mind you, that’s still a lot of money down here.”

It was just about anywhere except Hollywood. “Is that a normal price for land down there?”

The choking laugh that burst from him was the answer without him even saying the words. “No. Nowhere close. It’s nice land and there’s always been a rumor he’s got a little diamond mine there, but other than that, it’s just ordinary ground. Not even very good grazing. Might be good for crops once all the undergrowth is gone. It’s about two sections—so a little over twelve hundred acres. But land’s only about three thousand an acre hereabouts.”

“Diamond mine? There are diamonds in Arkansas?”

“Yes’m, in a few places. A couple of the mines are real steady producers. A lot of them are industrial-grade veins, but there are a few that are jewelry quality. I talked to my boss, the judge, and he thinks the reason Nathan’s offering the land to me is to keep his two moneygrubbing sons away from it. That I do understand. His sons are real no-accounts. Nobody likes or trusts them and their names have passed by my desk in the court more than once.”

Sort of like Vicki’s situation but in reverse. “I guess the big question is, are you interested?”

He let out a deep breath. “I haven’t had much of a chance to think about it, to be honest. I just barely got off the phone with him and we immediately thought to call you to find out your thoughts. I mean, it’s nice land—overlooks the river and parts are real pretty. But for that price there’d better be something really special about it. I just don’t know what that might be. And I don’t think he’d tell me if I asked ’lessen we were under contract.”

“And by then, it’s a little late to be disappointed.”

His voice said he’d already thought out the problems: “Yes, ma’am. He even offered to carry a loan if our bequest wasn’t enough. So I guess that sort of puts the skids on our plans to cancel the bequest … at least until we know what this is about. Molly agrees with me that it’s too coincidental to ignore. I told him I’d call him back next week, after I’d talked with the attorneys and my family. I didn’t mention telling you, but you’re sort of part of the attorneys, in my mind.”

“I appreciate you calling. Let me see what I can find out and why don’t you do the same there. Don’t tell anyone about it, but do some discreet work to find out his background.”

He chuckled. “Molly has already started her quilting circle finding things out. By morning, we’ll know everything there is to know about his family. I’ll let you know what we find out, but it might not be until Tuesday. He asked if he could come over and talk with us tomorrow. He’d like to meet Molly and the girls, but he made it clear it had to be in the daylight. The only way to do that is to have him over at the diner at noontime. We all meet there and eat together every day.”

This was all happening really fast, but that’s the way it is with visions sometime. Hit just the right trigger and the whole thing unreels. Movement caught my eye and I looked toward the vehicles to see a dust devil forming. The wind picked up sand and spun it. The sand sparkled in the afternoon sun. Or was it not the sand that was sparkling? “Mr. Murphy, I think Vicki’s here. Let me talk to her about it and see what she thinks.”

He let out a light laugh. “Please call me Mick. My dad’s Mr. Murphy. I find it funny you say you think Miss Vicki’s there like she’s walking up the road. You seem to handle ghosts pretty well. Sure you’re not a channeler, too?”

I asked that of myself for a long time. But it’s only select ghosts. “Thankfully no. But they do seem to like me.”

He chuckled again and said his good-byes while I stared at the sparkling whirlwind that was bouncing off the car roofs. I walked out into the warm sun and felt an immediate sting in spots on my nose that said I’d sweated too much and some of the sunscreen had rubbed off. I addressed the circle of dust: “So, did you hear? What do you think?”

Of course there wasn’t any way for her to respond in writing—no windows. But once again I was wrong, because she shot up into the sky and my eyes followed. Words appeared on my picture window in frosted letters two feet high. Yes! Find out … urgent!

Urgent? Why was it now urgent rather than a mildly frustrating curiosity on her part? But she seemed really agitated. So much so that the people in the house came to the window to stare at the hovering tornado of sand. “It’s okay. I’ll be talking to him again on Tuesday.”

She wrote again, right over the tops of the other words. That was really unlike her. It took me a second to make them out: No! Go there. Hurry.

Go there? To Arkansas? “Sweetie, land sales take months to complete even if they signed the deal today. We’ve got a pretty big crisis right here to deal with first.”

Once again, letters appeared over the top of the others without her waiting for the sun to warm the previous words away: Same crisis … I know it!

Oh, crap. Was there a second rift opening in Arkansas? Why now, and why there? Or was it more simple than that? I needed to talk to people who would know, and fortunately, they happened to be just upstairs. “You’re too upset, Vick. You need to relax and regroup. I’ll talk to the others and then we’ll talk again. Okay?”

’Kay.

Then she was gone, leaving the sand to drop to the ground with the force of a dump truck spreading its load. I sighed, grabbed the broom I keep near the stairs, and scattered the pile before my bushes broke under the weight.

As I climbed the steps to the front door, my mind was racing. How could the owner of a diamond mine in Arkansas have anything to do with a demonic rift in California? Why would the Murphys need to own the land?

A dozen more half questions and random thoughts were racing through my mind as I opened my front door. “What was that all about?” Bruno asked, and I looked up from contemplating my sneakers to see his concerned face. He was standing near the window, trying to make out the words Vicki had written. Being backward and on top of each other didn’t make it easy.

“Long story,” I admitted. “You want it first, or you want to tell me what you’ve been talking about?”

“We should definitely proceed with all available information. It might answer questions we’ve been asking each other,” Dr. Sloan said, and, as usual, he made sense. The dessicated little man’s freckled brown skin seemed pale, as though he’d received a shock. His watery eyes told me the same.

So I told them about the call and Vicki’s reaction. There was silence all around for a long moment. I took the opportunity to look around the room for somewhere to sit. I don’t generally give parties, and having this many people in my living room filled every chair. Creede was installed in my favorite recliner, a big brute of a chair that enveloped me in cushiony softness. A wooden chair from the kitchen would have to do, because I wasn’t about to kick a guest out of his seat, especially when he looked so damned comfortable.

As I headed for the kitchen, he stood and stepped in front of me. “You sit down. I’ll get one.”

Okay, having a telepath in the house wasn’t always a bad thing. I smiled and gratefully sat in my chair, made all warm and tingly by his residual magic. Bruno noticed the interaction and didn’t like it much, but how could he say anything about John being a courteous guest that wouldn’t make him sound like a troll?

Thankfully, Creede decided to be a gentleman and brought not one but two chairs. He put one on either side of my chair and sat down in one—offering the other to Bruno with his eyes and a tip of his head. Okay, he was trying to play fair. That won him a few points. Bruno sat and touched my hand. I smiled at him, too. I was happily lulled by magic beating on me from both sides like a shiatsu massager.

“Ms. Graves,” said Dr. Sloan after a few seconds, “could we hear a demonstration of the horn’s tone?”

Yeah, that would be a good idea. Adriana held it out toward me. When I went over to get it, she didn’t let go for a moment. Her eyes were sparkling with amusement when she whispered, “If you ever have cause to wonder whether you come from our line, don’t. I became a garden statue in their eyes when you walked into the room.”

My blush was immediate. Next to Adriana, Dawna smiled like the Mona Lisa. I didn’t dare turn around and let the boys see my reaction, so I picked up the horn and put it to my lips. Like in the car, a low, clean note filled the room. I heard glass shattering somewhere in the distance and immediately stopped blowing. The sound didn’t dissipate for long moments after I’d put down the horn. I felt a hand on my elbow and turned to find Bruno holding my arm. “Come over here and do that again.”

Creede was drawing symbols between two circles of chalk … on my polished wooden floor.

“Aw, man. You’d better clean that off when we’re done. It’ll ruin the wax.”

He looked up at me with bemusement before looking down again to complete the last symbol. “You’ll thank me later when you’re cleaning up only a few pieces of shattered glassware in your hutch instead of all of them.”

Touché.

Bruno held me back for a moment while he studied the circle. “You laid down two identification spells. What else are we looking for?”

Creede shrugged. “The spell might be on the shell or it might be on Celia. No sense doing a second circle to find out.”

Bruno grunted and nodded. Then he positioned me in the middle of the circle. His brow furrowed and he knelt down to add another precise, complex symbol in a very different handwriting than Creede’s smooth, flowing loops. Creede noticed and crossed arms over his chest with raised brows. “Interesting. Hadn’t considered a trip wire to pull away the horn if it goes south. Good thinking.”

“Unique circumstance,” was Bruno’s reply, but I could tell he was pleased. The sad part was they could probably be really close friends … if not for me. He touched my leg to get my attention and then stood. “Okay, here’s the plan. Put the horn to your lips and take a breath. But don’t blow until we have the circle up.”

“Why not put the circle up first?”

Creede answered, “There’s a chance that whatever the spell is will have safeguards that prevent it from being identified. Neither of us could find any overt spell or residual magic in the shell. So it must be in the sounding. I felt … something when you blew it. Something that wasn’t there before.”

Bruno nodded. “So did I. But with a circle around you, you might be unable to lift the horn or take a breath. You shouldn’t be prevented from releasing a breath, but if you are, raise your hand or stomp a foot or something and we’ll pull the whole works down.”

“Gee, you guys are making this sound like so much fun.” I looked down at the circle, now mildly nervous. “Damned good thing I trust you both to keep me safe.” I stared from one to the other, bringing home the point.

Creede winked. “Damned good thing you’re hard to kill.”

Bruno’s smile made me feel better. “That vampire did make it a lot easier to protect you.”

Okay. One more time for the cameras. I lifted the horn to my lips and took a deep breath. I raised one finger to let them know I was ready. Golden and dark eyes began to blaze with power. They stood on either side of the circle and began to whisper words and sounds that seemed better suited to a dark night with cool sheets.

If I hadn’t already inhaled, the feel of the magic would have stolen my breath away. Power crackled across my skin and pressed against me with claustrophobic closeness. They gave no signal, but I could tell the circle was complete by the way my every hair was standing on end. I blew the horn, this time not tentatively. I gave it all I was worth. The sound filled the circle and pushed at the edges, wanting to go farther. It vibrated in my chest but didn’t seem to bother my ears. The sound was a pleasant, low hum, like a distant interstate. I risked a glance at the mages and found they’d had to step back several feet. The circle wasn’t straight up and down anymore. It was cone shaped and it apparently was all they could do to keep it intact. Their hands were blurs in the air; and their eyes, pairs of twin stars. I didn’t start to worry until Bruno turned his head and yelled something to the other people in the room. I couldn’t hear him past the deep, dark wall of sound from the ancient horn, but the panic on my friends’ faces made me pull the horn from my lips. Everybody either ducked behind furniture or bolted out of the room.

Not good.

Creede and Bruno started talking to each other across the void of hazy air, but I still couldn’t hear them and I suck at reading lips. Whatever they decided made Creede call out. Dawna came running and after listening to him raced to the front door and opened it.

Creede’s fingers moved lazily and gracefully. He reached out as though to pull a rope. I felt the magic surrounding me follow. It was as though someone had turned on a vacuum and applied the hose to my skin. I started to take a step toward the door, because it seemed like he was going to move the circle. But Bruno waved his arms in wide, frantic gestures and I could see the word No! in his mouth movements. I put my foot back down and he put a hand to his chest and let out a heaving breath like I’d nearly given him a heart attack.

The pulling, tugging sensation moved from mere pressure to actual pain as Creede backed slowly toward the door. Bruno saw me wince and gave me a look filled with sympathy but made it clear I shouldn’t move. My skin was now stinging like tiny ants were biting me. The air was like honey thickened to a near solid and full of sharp crystals that cut when I moved. I had to struggle to do anything except breathe.

When Creede finally reached the door, he shouted something to Bruno, who raised his arms and steadied his stance. With an apparent massive effort, he threw power forward, and I nearly fell over under the assault of energy. I dropped to my knees, trickier than it sounds while staying carefully in the circle. I sat on my heels and put my palms flat on the floor to stay steady.

I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the smell of burning wood and hair that surrounded me, or the intense pressure and pain all along one side of my body. All I could think was, Please don’t destroy my house.

When the release came it was like slamming a door against a hurricane. The sudden silence and absence of wind topples you. I fell backward, and although I tried desperately to correct myself, I was going to break the circle. Shit!

But then strong arms grabbed me and I found myself in Bruno’s lap, looking up at his relieved face. His lips moved, but like in a B-grade kung fu movie the sounds reached my brain a few seconds after they left his mouth: “That was a close one.”

Full sound returned with a pop, and I could hear the wind whistling through the doorway and the hum-tick of my Kit-Cat Klock on the wall. “What happened?” My voice was breathy, which was pretty much how I felt—weightless, breathless. My heart was beating out a healthy dose of panic. “Is everyone okay?”

He gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “You gave me a scare, woman. If you’d broken that circle we’d be picking up pieces of your house in downtown L.A.”

I looked around. The house looked fine, but Creede looked a little crisp around the edges. He was on his knees at the doorway, hands on his thighs, relearning how to breathe. He looked past me in Bruno’s arms to the other man’s eyes. “We’re going to have to find some way to shore up that barrier. We didn’t craft it to handle anything like this. This circle just barely held it until I could get an edge out the door to release it, and I don’t think she was really trying. Do the identification spells give any hint of what we’re dealing with?”

I didn’t have to ask what barrier. They’d apparently decided it was a foregone conclusion I’d be sounding the horn to close the rift. Bruno nodded and reluctantly eased me off his lap until I was sitting on the floor. He spun on his butt and looked at the circle, no longer chalk but a charred mess that was still smoking. Aww, man—my hardwood!

He stared at the symbols as if reading a report. “The spell’s definitely on the horn. Never seen anything quite like it. See what you think, John.”

Wow … working together. Creede got slowly to his feet, pushing off the doorjamb with that same deep weariness he’d shown at the prison. He shook his head repeatedly and blinked as though dazed. When he got close, he squatted down and stared where Bruno was pointing. I took a second to tug on both of their pant legs. “Thanks, guys. I think it might have been ugly if anyone with less skill had been casting. Sorry I keep being so much trouble.”

Bruno reached out to squeeze my hand with a smile and Creede gently ruffled my hair with a wink and said, “You’re like skydiving with only a backup chute, Celia. Once you survive, the rush makes you want to go back and try again.”

I heard Dawna’s voice from the kitchen door: “Is everyone alive out there?”

Bruno laughed. “Barely. But yeah—the coast is clear. C’mon back and we can talk this out.”

Dr. Sloan was the first one out and swept past me to kneel on the floor next to the circle. The horn was still in the middle of the ring and he picked it up with absolute awe on his face. “Amazing. And yet neither of you found any indication of power when you examined it. What about now?” He handed it to the closest mage, which happened to be Creede. “Did blowing it activate anything?”

Creede held it in one hand and waved his other over the shell. He shook his head. “Not a damned thing. I’d swear on my grandmother’s grave this is not an artifact.”

Sloan sprang to his feet with more grace than I would have given him credit for. “What about the other one? The king conch?”

It was still on the mantel in its usual place of honor. I pointed and Sloan brought it and almost shoved it into my hands; his eyes were bright and excited. “Try to blow it. Does it make any sound now that the other one is close?”

I pointed to the still-smoking circle in my floor. “How about we move this outside? I still have to live here when this is over.” And it was my fault, since I knew full well it had cracked the windshield. I handed the king conch back to Sloan. As he took it, he grabbed my other hand and pulled me toward him. Sloan and propriety have issues.

“Fascinating! Have you noticed the death mark darkens after a near-fatal event?”

It does? I stared at my bare palm and realized he was right. After the exorcism, the mark had faded into the background. I barely knew it was there anymore. But now it was like a fresh scar, the pink after a scab is removed.

Soon my palm was lifted awkwardly so everyone could see. Creede was the first to speak: “Was that the hand you were holding the horn with?”

I thought and then shook my head. “Nope. This one was just loose at my side.” I tipped my head in amendment. “At least until I had to catch my balance on the floor. Then it was on the floor.”

Bruno said, “That’s when the floor started to smoke!”

Oh, great. That was just what I needed to hear. I knew the death mark couldn’t be removed without killing me, but if the mark itself could be used to burn down a house around me … that was bad.

But Creede shook his head. “Yeah, but the circle was already going wrong. We’ve got two different events going on.”

“Those are Atlantean.” Adriana was standing over all of us squatting and sitting people. She was staring at the four new marks that had appeared on the floor inside the twin circles. “They spell Eris. Just like in the horns.”

Dr. Sloan turned my conch into the light and his bushy gray brows rose until they looked like caterpillars crawling across his forehead. “You’re right! But did the spell identify the horn Ms. Graves was blowing or the name of the spell caster … or was Eris the caster?”

Adriana shook her head. “Eris was queen of Atlantis. Siren queens can never be mages. They can have no other gifts.” The pain in Adriana’s face was sudden but very real. But her pride was too much for me to offer sympathy. Maybe someday, in private. But not here in a crowd. “She would have had priests, though, and many of them would be mages.”

Creede pointed at the new marks. “My spell was to learn the name of the spell, not the caster or owner of the horn. So I have to presume the name of the spell is Eris. Likely something crafted for a single event—which, of course, this was. The problem is—”

Bruno completed the thought. “There’s no such spell on the books. So there’s no way to re-create it or counter it. The spell could do anything. It could close the rift, open it, or destroy the world. We just don’t know without activating it and letting it run its course.”

I pointed to the smoking circle. “We didn’t just let it run its course?”

They both shook their heads and Bruno said, “No. When you pulled the horn away from your lips, the spell stopped. We channeled the power, but I have no idea what might have happened next.”

“How would the person blowing it know when the spell is done?” I was careful in my choice of words. I was still hoping someone else could do the deed.

Creede raised his hands with a shrug. “Honest opinion? The horn would probably stop blowing. It’s likely only sounding now because it senses the rift—that’s probably what has activated the spell.”

I didn’t buy it. “That’s a lot of guessing. So far I’m the only person who can make the triton blow. But that doesn’t mean I’m the only one. It might well be that there’s a hundred people who can do that. I don’t know whether it would have sounded a year ago because I’d never seen it before Adriana brought it to me.” Which raised another question I’d been meaning to ask. I turned my head to catch her eye. “Why did you bring it to me, anyway? Why not have Okalani take you straight to the rift?”

She shrugged gracefully in that special way that only dancers can pull off. “I foresaw myself giving it to you. And frankly, you’re the only person I know on the mainland. I could trust no one else with something of this value.”

Hard to argue with that logic. Creede rose to his feet and offered me a hand. I took it and he pulled. In fact, he sort of overpulled and I wound up pressed against him for a brief moment before I could back away. He didn’t seem to mind and neither did my body.

Just to play it safe, I offered my hand to Bruno and repeated the exercise. Strange, but for all my former fiancé’s superior power, I didn’t react the same way to him. There was just something about Creede’s magic that made my body sing. But oh, the eyes and smile on that big Italian lug made my stomach flutter with nearly the same intensity. Yum.

Dr. Sloan hadn’t noticed our little song and dance, but the two women did. Dawna was looking amused and I’ll bet she couldn’t wait until she had me alone and could grill me about every minute detail. But Dr. Sloan’s voice pulled my eyes away from her, back to the shell in his hand: “I see your point about the reason and scope of the spell. But we really need to test the king conch—see if you can also make it sound. We need to go out to the beach.” He stood and proceeded to do just that, a horn in each hand. I shrugged and motioned that we might as well go with him. I didn’t want anyone or anything to swoop down and take them away.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, we were no closer to an answer than when we’d started. No, I couldn’t blow the king conch. Nor could anyone else. The triton sounded only for me and with the barest of breath.

Once they started doing testing circles on the shells alone, I relegated myself to the shadow of the biggest palm I could find, because the sun was getting low on the horizon and was becoming painful to be out in it. I needed another liberal application of sunscreen—which I didn’t have handy. I’d apparently left the bottle I’d used in the hotel back there somewhere, because I couldn’t find it in the SUV. There was another bottle in my luggage, but we’d packed in such a rush that I had no idea where it might be.

I also needed another shake even though it hadn’t been four hours yet. The people on the beach were starting to glow and pulse, and it wasn’t helping that there was magic flying all over the place.

As I sat hunched in a tiny pool of darkness, it occurred to me that for too long I’d been letting situations rule me. The break I’d sought at the spa hadn’t turned out to be what I’d hoped for. Well … certain parts of my body had gotten nicely relaxed. I supposed it was good to find out everything down there still worked after the bat bite—before I started doing any serious dating again.

But there were too many disconnects between body, mind, and spirit. And I knew just the cure. Fortunately, there was just enough room in shade, if I sat right next to the tree trunk, to assume a lotus position. I’d done yoga for years, but lately, with all the things that had been happening, I hadn’t stolen back the time it takes. Now, with everyone otherwise occupied, I figured I had at least ten minutes of good, solid meditation time available.

I took a deep, centering breath and crossed my legs. My thighs reminded me I hadn’t done this in some time. Ow. But getting past the pain is part of the process, so I cupped my fingers and rested them on my knees. Closing my eyes made the world disappear, and soon the only sounds I could hear were the crashing of the waves, the calling of the gulls, and the wind in the palm fronds overhead. I imagined the water around me and soon I was floating on the waves, letting the ocean take me where it would.

I’d taken a dozen slow breaths when I heard Bruno’s voice near my ear: “Celie? Hon? Um … not to interrupt, but we sort of need the beach back.”

I blinked my eyes and tried to focus on his face. The waves sounded louder and I felt sort of … damp. I looked down to find that the tide had come in … but farther inland than I’d ever seen it. Water was lapping around the tree’s shadow but not actually touching me. Seriously weird. I looked up and there were at least a dozen gulls perched in the tree overhead, staring down at me with curious black eyes.

What the hell? “What’s happening?”

Bruno shrugged. “Your cousin said it’s your doing, but I have no idea how to fix it.”

I raised a hand and motioned toward said cousin, inviting her over. Adriana gave an exaggerated sigh and splashed her way toward me, pants rolled to her knees and tan boat shoes in her hands. She started speaking before I could ask the question: “The water responds to you as it does to the other sirens. It seeks you out when you call—as it did when sirens of old would call the ocean onto the rocks to wreck ships and strand sailors. Unfortunately, I don’t have the ability to send it back. I don’t know if this will help, but Mother simply motions it back like a puppy who’s strayed from the yard.”

A puppy. The ocean is not a puppy. Still, who was I to argue? I made shooing motions with the backs of my hands. “Go on. Get back in the yard.”

Bruno laughed and I shook my head with bemusement for thinking it would work. At first, I thought I was imagining it. But damned if the waves didn’t start to lap farther from the tree with each inward flow. Maybe it would work with the gulls, too. I looked up and made the same motions. “Go on. Shoo. Go find some fish to eat.”

With flaps of massive wings, the birds took to the air and soared into the distance. “Oh. Wow.” I looked up at Adriana. “I probably need to tell the queen about this, huh?”

She tipped her head with wide eyes and nodded. “I would. You need training to control what appear to be growing abilities. They’re completely natural to our kind but can be a nuisance when the waters come at unexpected moments.” She gave me a significant look before turning and walking back along the sodden beach to where the others were waiting.

Yeah. Unexpected would be bad. I needed to make sure that in future meditations I visualized grass or wildflowers. Or maybe flatland prairie or a nice sandy desert.

Anything but water. I wouldn’t want to find the waves scratching at my front door because I’d finally relaxed into a true meditation. The door’s on the second floor. My car is on the first.

“Maybe this is a hint it’s time to wrap things up for today. I need to fee—eat, and I think all of us need some rest. Tomorrow’s going to come too quick already.”

Bruno nodded. “John and I will set up temporary barriers for the horns—one for each, so they don’t touch or … go off.”

I took a deep breath. “Thank you for being willing to work with him. It’s not really what it looks like between us.”

Bruno sighed and there was pain in those brown eyes that I would erase if I could. “Yes. It is. It’s exactly what it looks like. But he reminded me rather strongly that I was the one who threw you away and that I didn’t have any right to blame him for catching you.” He shook his head in frustration. “I just wished he wasn’t so damned talented. It would be easier to hate him if I didn’t respect him so much.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. We looked at each other, feeling lost. I took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Creede’s been very kind and I can’t deny he’s awfully hard to resist. But we haven’t gone to where you and I have. If that helps any.”

His smile and chuckle weren’t up to his normal standards. “A little. But I can’t ignore how you look at each other and I honestly can’t say he wouldn’t be better for you. I’ve got … a lot of thinking to do.” He raised my hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss. “I do love you, Celie. You know that.”

My laugh was a little teary around the edges. “You did last time, too. And the time before.”

He nodded and tucked my arm under his as we walked back across the beach. John stood watching, leaning on the Mustang with arms crossed.

I had the feeling it was going to be a long, restless night for both of us.

Maybe for all three of us.