Read Turning Tides Online

Authors: Mia Marshall

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Urban, #Contemporary, #General

Turning Tides (13 page)

Sera’s trial was the next day, and I refused to give her more reason to worry. When she was safe, I’d tell her. It was a place to start, at least. I could wait one more day.

And while I waited, I’d save my best friend this one time, to make up for all the times she’d been there for me. If my sanity was burning out at an accelerated rate, then I was going out in a blaze of glory. Fixing Mac. Saving Sera. Hell, give me enough time and I’d cure the common cold and find out who took the Lindbergh baby. Whatever happened, I wasn’t going quietly into madness.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” I announced, and exited the cottage before either could ask where I was going.

If I was running out of time, there were a few loose ends I needed to tie up first.

When I felt like this, felt the desire for action, for movement, for something concrete I could touch and understand and change, I knew that was the fire side speaking.

It didn’t matter that my fire and water magic were equally strong. I identified as a water. It was how I was raised and what I saw in the mirror. It was the identity of the family that surrounded me. I could never see the fire as anything but an interloper.

So I did the one thing that always worked for me, a quiet, calming activity I associated with my water side. I found a rock overlooking the ocean on the south side of the island and pulled out my notebook. I might not feel safe putting my recent personal problems in writing, but I could at least outline everything I knew about the recent murders.

It didn’t take long. I knew the council had a plan, and based on all available evidence, I was fairly certain it was a nefarious one—and not just because nefarious is such an awesome word. In my experience, when people are keeping secrets at the same time bodies start falling, the two things tend to be related.

It wasn’t much to go on.

Next, I listed everyone I’d seen on the island since arriving. For the most part, it was one Brook after another, the people I’d grown up with, but I knew better than to discount them outright. After all, none of them knew I was part fire, so there was always a chance they were keeping the same secret. It was a teeny, tiny chance, but I was a desperate woman. I couldn’t afford to ignore any possibility.

I wrote Lana’s and David’s names, and the four remaining council members. They were all strangers to the island, and smart money was on the hidden fire being somewhere in their midst. If it was Lana, we’d need to hand over the island to her, and possibly the keys to the entire world, because anyone who could hide her villainous intentions under such a ridiculous exterior was a criminal mastermind the likes of which the world had never seen.

I knew little about David, which was reason enough to suspect him. It was a shame, because I liked the quiet stone, but I’d liked a couple of other murderers before I learned what they were. I underlined his name on the list, then studied the remaining four names.

Four council members. Four powerful waters from old families. Four people in obvious disagreement over, well, something. I didn’t know what it was, but I was certain it was important.

My phone buzzed. To my surprise, Vivian’s number came up on the caller ID.

“You know, asking Sera and Simon to email instead of you doesn’t let you off the hook on the whole distance thing,” she said in greeting.

“They volunteered. You said you’d help till Sera was clear, remember?”

“I should know better than to ever give you lot an inch.” The words contained no small amount of frustration, but there was also an unexpected hint of laughter.

“Well, they miss you.” She didn’t respond. “What’s up?”

“I need to know what the priority list is. Computer files or info about the islanders?”

I weighed the options. “Computer files, I think. Those bastards are up to no good.”

“Got it. And so you know, I’ve already gone through half the list. Other than finding some possible contenders for a wine rehab program, I’m not uncovering much dirt.”

Another dead end. This wasn’t the news I’d wanted.

“Except there’s some stuff on the councilman who ruined the Transformers movies.”

I perked up. “Not the same man. We can’t blame him for those. What’d you learn?”

“He’s broke.”

“Is that even possible? You know all the old ones are filthy rich.”

“Well, numbers and offshore bank accounts don’t lie. He invested eight hundred million dollars in some seven-star hotel being built in Dubai, all of which vanished when the entire building fell into the Persian Gulf. Apparently, there are reasons one shouldn’t hire workers just a step above slave labor to build a luxury hotel on a man-made island.”

“No insurance?”

“Not a cent.”

I wasn’t surprised. Being a flighty water had its downside.

“That’s interesting, but I’m not sure if it helps us.”

“I’m not done. Guess who his business partner and co-investor was? One Edith Lake.”

My eyes widened. “Seriously? Am I correct in thinking she bought insurance?”

“Made a tidy profit, while he was ruined. Sounds like a nice revenge motive to me.”

“It sure as hell does. Vivian, you are a rock star.”

“Keep your flattery. Just save Sera, okay?” Though she didn’t say it, the implicit meaning was hard to miss: clear Sera so we could once again leave Vivian alone. We hung up on her promise to get me the council’s files that night.

While I waited for Vivian to hack the council’s laptop, I could manage a bit of legwork. I tucked my notebook into my purse and headed toward town.

It seemed the people ran as soon as I approached. I felt like the villain entering the center of town in an old western, riding his black horse while all the townspeople hid, desperately hoping the bad guy would ride away without stopping to shoot any of them first.

I couldn’t help it. I looped my thumbs into my belt loops and stared at the handful of storefronts while attempting my most menacing expression. Experience had taught me that my version of menacing is similar to most people’s expression of vague discomfort, but it was the best I could do. Curtains twitched in the windows, distant cousins and great-aunts and uncles all hiding from me.

I didn’t belong here anymore. Not on this tiny island, with these people who managed to be simultaneously kind-hearted and close-minded. Though I stood beneath the open sky, surrounded for miles by my element, I felt as if walls were tightening around me, and I fought for breath. The fire stirred, rebelling against the feeling of entrapment. I beat it back.

On the plus side, for that moment I was pretty sure my menacing stare improved exponentially.

I headed toward my great-grandmother’s house, hoping to find news there. Night was falling at last, the stubborn light of the long summer day finally giving way to a blanket of stars. I resented its approach, the reminder that I was rapidly running out of time to exonerate Sera.

The house was well-lit, and the curtains were open, allowing me to easily see inside. I leaned against a large maple in the yard, taking stock. Georgina, Marie, and Tina sat at the dining table, playing Scrabble and, of course, drinking wine. I’d watched many such games as a child, though I’d long ago given up attempting to participate in them. If I was closer, I’d be able to say how many bottles they’d already drunk based on the quality of their spelling and the number of proper nouns allowed on the board. Usually, by the third bottle, the game would descend into alphabet anarchy, a chaotic rule of letters none but the three of them could understand.

David and Lana were in the living room. Like any good stone, David was slouched on the sofa, looking like he might not budge for another week or two. He watched TV while Lana stared at him with a dopey expression that was visible even from a distance. My mother, bless her heart, was sitting nearby, keeping her promise to supervise Lana.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” I jumped as my father appeared out of the darkness.

I placed a hand on my heart, willing it to calm. “Why? To test my fight or flight response?”

“I wanted to discuss what happened earlier today,” said Josiah.

Recently, I’d had a lot of occasion to practice my innocent face, and I desperately hoped it had improved since the last time I tried it. If Josiah had picked up on my fire usage earlier that day, I’d quickly find myself hauled off the island with a reservation for a padded room, party of one.

“The council are really an unreasonable bunch. Aren’t you waters supposed to be easy-going? They attempted to block me at every turn.”

“Oh, that. Yes,” I tried not to look happy about the stonewalling council, but I was too relieved my fire use had gone unnoticed to hide it.

Josiah quirked an eyebrow. “My failure amuses you?”

It did, actually, but that was beside the point. “No, it’s just that I overheard them discussing you. They might like you even less than I do.”

He laughed, feelings entirely unhurt. I filled him in on their discussion and what little I’d discovered in my search of their rooms.

“So, you learned nothing from the council?” I asked. His failure might amuse me, but it was also out of character.

He shrugged, shoulders moving up and down in an exaggerated movement. “There were too many others nearby. Everyone wants to see the spot where the island’s first murder in centuries occurred, particularly as this one is a safe distance from the accused. You waters are a morbid lot, aren’t you? Sadly, so many witnesses severely limited my ability to question them.”

He said “question” the way an interrogator would say “threaten.”

“Who was there?” I knew there was an old chestnut about returning to the scene of the crime. I could always hope someone had been lurking about in a suspicious manner, possibly while rubbing their hands together with glee.

Josiah looked at me in confusion. “There were fifteen tall blonds on a beach. Does that help?”

“You saying we all look the same?”

He rolled his eyes, for perhaps the fifth time in this conversation, and was smart enough not to answer.

“We should focus on Michael Bay.” I relayed the information Vivian had uncovered. Josiah appeared downright pleased, and I imagined he was hoping the killer was a council member. The man didn’t react well to being thwarted. “Also, I haven’t had a chance to look into David and Lana yet. The stone and the odd water,” I clarified. “They arrived on the island just as the murders started.”

“Of course, of course,” Josiah answered. “Ah, this doesn’t require talking to the Pond girl, does it?”

I hid my smile, pleased to hear he intended to avoid Lana as much as possible. The woman might be a nut job who hovered just on the wrong side of annoying, but I had no desire to see her dead because of my father’s paranoia. “No, just test her to see if somehow, against all laws of nature and common sense, she’s a dual magic. Him, too.”

“I’ll light a fire tonight, then exit to the garden and wait to see if anyone accesses it. Perhaps I will pay a visit to your grandmother and submit Mr. Bay to the same test.” My father was practically bouncing on his toes, eager to catch the killer.

I shut my eyes, bothered that I was thinking of him as my father. I’d rejected him. Hell, I’d shot him. Just because we shared a goal didn’t mean we had anything else in common. He was an awful man who would happily murder anyone who knew what I was if he thought it would help keep my secret.

I felt a light hand on my arm, a gentle squeeze. “We’ll find this person, Aidan. You know that.” I nodded, eyes still closed.

He might be an awful man, but he was also my father. Some things are easier to deny than others, and family lives in your very blood, impossible to erase through pure force of will. I wasn’t ready to stop trying, though.

I waited until Josiah’s footsteps disappeared in the direction of Grams’ house, then finally opened my eyes. I withdrew my phone and dialed, watching as my mother picked up.

I glanced toward the west, to a houseboat I couldn’t see. “I need your help.”

Chapter 13

When you’re a half-blooded water
elemental and need to reach a boat half a mile offshore, you jump in the water and let it do all the heavy lifting. There’s no swimming involved, and no muscles need to be worked.

If you’re a full-blooded water elemental who doesn’t feel like getting her clothes wet, you bring the boat to you.

It was dark, the western side of the island still deserted, so my mother simply pulled the houseboat through the water at a pace that would earn a sailing medal in the summer Olympics, returning it to the cottage where I’d originally found the boat.

“Quickly, then.” She strode forward with long, deliberate strides. Her posture was flawless, as ever, her movements efficient and focused.

Growing up, I’d always thought she was different from my aunts because of her age. She was the oldest, and every pop psychology article I’d ever read insisted oldest children were the most responsible. Now, I wondered how much of her discipline came from decades of striving to keep me safe, to guard my secret from a world that would kill me if it learned what I was. She wasn’t like other waters I knew, but she was still my mother.

Right then, I needed my mommy, or at least Mac did—and she’d be able to help him as soon as we convinced the glowering otter to stop blocking our way onto the boat.

“What the fuck do you want?”

I stepped forward into the light cast by houseboat’s interior. “It’s just us, Miriam.”

She glared at me. If she’d been less adorable, it might have been scary. “Brook, you need to stop this habit of dragging me through the water. We could have brought it in ourselves, you know.”

“This was faster. Miriam, meet my mother, Fiona. She’s here to help Mac.”

Miriam didn’t look impressed, or even surprised. Of course, she’d seen my mother plenty of times at the Tahoe cabin, though my mother likely hadn’t noticed the otters drifting in the Truckee River during her visits.

Because of their proximity to the cabin and tendency to be nosy little buggers, the otters had learned things I’d prefer them not to know. Based on Miriam’s reaction, I suspected one of those things was, while my mother tolerated shifters more than most old ones, and could manage a respectable show of politeness, that didn’t mean she had warm, fuzzy feelings for them.

“Didn’t she already try to figure out what was wrong with him? I thought there was nothing she could do.”

“That was weeks ago, before he started getting ill. We have to try again.”

Weeks earlier, my mother erred on the side of caution, preferring to wait and see how the shared magic affected us. She could have explained her reasoning to Miriam and perhaps lessened the otter’s glare, but she had no interest in justifying her choices to the shifter.

The two women engaged in a staring contest that made me glad neither was looking at me. Miriam’s was full of scorn and challenge, while my mother’s was distant and patient.

“We don’t have a lot of time, so stop wasting it,” I told them. “If we finish early, you can both whip them out then.”

“Please don’t be vulgar, Aidan.”

Miriam laughed. Vulgar was where she lived. It was enough to break the tension, and she turned sideways, creating enough room for us to slip onto the houseboat.

“Wait here,” my mother ordered. “In fact, leave the beach entirely. I’d like to examine him without your magic interfering.”

I grumbled, partly because I already missed Mac and partly because I feared leaving him alone with my mother for any length of time, but I accepted the necessity.

Miriam looked between us, trying to decide whether it was more important that she supervise my mother or that she fill me in on her day’s activity.

“She won’t hurt him.”

My words helped make her decision, though she still looked uncertain. Elementals really haven’t given shifters a lot of reason to trust them. For that matter, some of the Tahoe shifters haven’t been on their best behavior of late, either, what with their whole “control shifter families so they’ll help us kill elementals” supervillain plan we’d only just prevented.

Basically, we had thousands of years of animosity between us and little access to media tolerance campaigns or school assemblies intended to educate us about each other. So we kept hating each other, and no one showed any interest in stopping.

My mother stepped inside the houseboat. Through the windows, I watched her disappear into Mac’s room, shutting the door behind her.

Once again, a shifter needed an elemental’s help, and while neither was happy with the situation, they were willing to accept it. Peace was possible between our races. We just needed a lot more practice to get it right.

“I suppose she’s slightly less asshole-ish than the rest of you lot,” Miriam observed.

“That’s on our family crest. ‘Slightly less asshole-ish than other elementals.’ But yeah. She’ll at least acknowledge you exist.”

Miriam and I stepped away from the boat, just far enough to keep my magic from interfering with my mother’s examination of Mac.

“I spent today in your canals. You all don’t think about much besides yourselves do you?”

“Hey!” I attempted to appear indignant. It would have been easier if she wasn’t right. “We’re a bit insular here,” I acknowledged. “We don’t really have much to distract us from ourselves. It’s easy for the old ones to maintain their belief that shifters don’t actually exist.”

“Which makes me think you’re either deluded or stupid. You know you’re surrounded by shifters, right?”

I blinked. I hadn’t known shifters existed until recently, and I certainly had no idea I’d grown up near them.

“What, birds? Fish? Are there fish shifters?” I was horrified, imagining all the sushi restaurants in Seattle.

“Brook, you still have a lot of ignorance we need to correct. Has no one explained shifters are mammals only? I’m talking sea lions and otters. I spent the day getting to know them. Good group. A bunch of them own a bar in Friday Harbor, but they travel up and down the islands, taking stock.”

“You were careful of the orcas, right?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Those bullies? We keep an eye out. Don’t worry about us.”

I wasn’t convinced, but I knew I couldn’t insist Miriam stay out of the water. I just wasn’t used to worrying that my friends would be eaten by Shamu.

“If you insist. Wait, are there orca shifters? They’re mammals, after all.”

“Again with the ignorance. You know our history. The original magical creatures transformed themselves and mated with animals, creating a race that was both human and animal.”

“And?”

“Why the hell would they choose to transform into a killer whale? First, they’d have to get in the water, cause if they shifted on land they’d beach themselves. Then they’d need to hunt down an animal constantly on the move, all for a little nookie? I’d hope they had better things to do with themselves. So, no. There are no dolphin or whale shifters.”

“Damn, Miriam. You’re better than Wikipedia. So, did you learn anything from the otters? Anything that could help us?”

“They gave me a bunch of gossip. Not sure if it’s useful, or if it’s even true.”

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

“According to the shifters, they could film a soap opera on this island. One of your aunts spends a lot of time in video chat with some water from the East Coast. Cape Cod, they think. Your great-grandmother leaves the island all the time these days, so her absence right now may not be about you. Lydia recently moved from her family’s enclave to a small town in Texas, right on the Gulf of Mexico. That stone guy, he looks all stoic and such, but every evening he’s down at the water, crying about something or other. Won’t tell his girlfriend what it is, either. Nothing on the others, but give me another day.”

While she spoke, my jaw dropped steadily toward the ground. We always called Simon our ninja, but I was beginning to think the otters were the spies of the shifter world. Everywhere there was water, they seemed to know a little too much about what was going on. Even so, it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

“Another day is all we have,” I reminded her. “But seriously, well done. I’m impressed.”

“Someday you’re gonna learn, there ain’t much I’m not good at. Think the agents will hire me next? I’d happily go for a swim with that Johnson fellow, if you know what I mean. So, will any of that help Sera?”

I turned over each individual fact, weighing their many possibilities and potential hidden meanings. “I have no idea. But it’s more than we knew this morning. Keep it up, and maybe I’ll put in a good word for you with Johnson,” I teased.

“Like I’d need your help.” Miriam stretched, a movement that only highlighted her lush body. The glint in her eyes told me she was well aware of this. “You’re not the only one around here who can bend men to your will.”

I wasn’t sure Mac had bent to anything just yet, but it was a nice thought. “Speaking of…” My mother appeared on the houseboat’s deck, gesturing for us to join her.

She didn’t bother with small talk when we reached her. “How long has it been since you saw him?”

“I stopped by this morning. He was fine when I left. How is he?” I didn’t wait for her to answer, already moving to the bedroom.

Mac was swinging his legs out of bed. Though there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, he otherwise looked healthy.

“He’s fine now,” he said with a pointed look. It really wasn’t easy having a private conversation when half your friends had shifter ears.

“Cause I’m here,” I finished. He nodded, mouth set in a grim line.

I turned to my mother, who’d followed me to the room and watched us both with worried eyes. “What the hell is happening? How do we fix this?” I tried to keep the panic from my voice, lest I give Mac even more reason to worry, but it was too close to the surface, too alive and desperate to stay hidden.

I expected my mother to look as helpless as I felt, but her face revealed only sadness.

“You know. You understand what’s happening.”

Mac looked between us, uncertainty and a wary hope battling across his broad features.

“Only to a point. There is no precedent for this. I can make an educated guess, based on what little we know.”

Miriam crept into the room while we spoke, and my mother stopped speaking.

“She already knows what I am, mother.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “That is unfortunate.”

I shook my head, the movement sharp. “It’s not. Hell, my friends are the reason I’m fighting to stay sane.” She winced, but it was too late to withdraw the words. I loved her, but it was different from the love I felt for my friends. My mother offered comfort and security, but my friends gave me a place to belong.

My mother was blood. My friends were home.

“Josiah can never know,” I insisted.

She cast an exasperated glance at me. “I tell that man as little as possible. I still have no idea what I was thinking, all those years ago. I suppose, on occasion, the daiquiris do the thinking for you.”

I barely refrained from putting my hands over my ears and singing “La la la” at the reminder that my mother once had sex with Josiah.

Mac saved me from the visual, drawing us back to the matter at hand. “So, what went wrong when Aidan healed me?”

My mother glared at him. “You died, and my daughter risked her health and sanity to save your life. Now, your magic is tied to hers and you are whining about it like a small boy.”

Apparently, we had a ways to go before Mac would be invited to family dinners.

I moved to the bed, sitting at his side and taking his hand. “How do we fix it?”

My mother sat in the room’s only chair. To look at her, she was a vision of control, but the tension in her clasped hands told a different story.

“You sent your magic into Mac. Both your magics.”

I still remembered it, the fire’s strength fueling the healing properties of the water. I’d known joy as I felt Mac heal beneath my touch, as his heart remembered to beat again and the blood began to flow through his veins, but there’d been more. I’d felt whole, my magics working together for the first time. For a few minutes, I’d been pretty certain that, left to my own devices, I could take over the entire world.

“When you drew them back to you, you left some behind. We already knew this, based on my examination after the events with that wretched woman. Also, there was the fact that, after Mac healed, he could control a small amount of water.”

“But not fire,” I added. “He hasn’t been able to do anything with that.”

“Have you tried?”

He nodded.

“Stop it, you fool. Aidan was perfectly healthy for years, unaware of her fire side. Unless you want to face the same battle with sanity as my daughter, I suggest you leave it alone.”

My insides turned to lead. “You’re saying he does have fire magic?”

“Fucking hell,” whispered Miriam. I couldn’t have said it better myself. I thought I’d only broken him a little. I might have ruined him.

And yet, he was still alive, still sane. It beat the alternative, in which he’d died weeks ago.

“Of course he has fire. Your magics were working together as one, and so you left them both behind. Before, he seemed stable, as far as I could tell, so I felt no need to worry you with information about the fire magic.”

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, then to twenty. “Stop trying to save us from ourselves.” The words came out covered in grit.

Mac squeezed my hand. I returned the movement, seeking reassurance and calm when I knew we both wanted to scream at my mother. Perhaps we would, but not until she’d delivered the entire diagnosis.

“I was merely trying to spare him the same struggles you experience, Aidan. I thought you would be grateful. Regardless, this time I focused on how his shifter side was reacting to the elemental magic you’d left behind. It wasn’t easy. Shifter magic is far more chaotic and difficult to understand.”

Miriam nodded. “Damn straight.” For some people, chaotic and difficult to understand are compliments.

My mother had the look of a doctor preparing to deliver a terminal diagnosis. I gripped Mac’s hand even tighter, anchoring him to me.

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