Spell or High Water Read online

  “I’m counting on it,” Mac murmured.

  “Pardon?” I wanted to look at him, but I had to keep my eyes on the busy traffic.

  “Well, Theresa, let’s not beat around the bush anymore, shall we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I know you’re a witch. And I’m fairly certain you know exactly what I am too!”

  Chapter Three

  Twisting the steering wheel with a jerk, I took a hard right onto the closest residential street I could find and came to a screeching halt under the patchy shade of a grizzled old palm tree. The sign in front of it said the shack at the top of the brown, crackling law was being remodeled by a development company, probably into something someone would have to slap down at least a million for.

  Mac leaned forward to look outside. “It says you can’t park here…”

  It only took the spark of my anger to ignite the tongue of flame which sprang from my hand. I held it up between us and it flared higher, but he didn’t flinch.

  In fact, his grin rivaled my father’s artificially whitened one.

  “So that’s it! I’ve never been able to sense witches well before, but from the moment you got out of your father’s car, I could feel this…” He searched for the word. “Electricity!” he finished.

  “You sure you didn’t want to say something equally clichéd like you could feel the fire between us?” I held the flame closer until the light of it was reflected in his eyes. “Listen, I don’t know what your game is, but if you…”

  My voice died away as Mac lifted his own hand to show me a perfect sphere of water swirling above his palm.

  I closed my fist, extinguishing the flame, and backed up against the car door. My hand was on the handle, ready to bolt. “You’re fae.”

  “No.” He made a twisting motion with his wrist and the water sphere disappeared.

  “Warlock then.”

  Mac sighed. “Not exactly. There’s witch blood in me, yes, but not enough to turn me into a psychopath.” Something in my expression made him laugh. “I’ve never actually met a full-blood warlock myself, but I’ve heard the rumors.”

  “Then what are you?”

  He frowned. “I’ve never really named it before. I’m me. There’s a fire witch in my local coven too, though she can barely muster up a spark. She calls us elementals.”

  “How?” I cut him off. “If a man has enough witch blood, he’s a warlock, end of story. And that means spells. If he doesn’t have enough, then he’s nothing at all unless he can get a hedge witch to teach him how to make potions. I’ve never heard of any man like you outside of the fae.”

  “And don’t you think that’s strange?” Some intense emotion in his voice thickened his accent.

  I had the urge to admit my worries about the similarities between witches and fae, but instead, I went on the offensive. “No, I don’t. It just is. What are you? How are you?”

  Mac sighed as if I’d disappointed him somehow. “I’ve done the research. There’s witch blood in my line, but far back. Far enough that no male member of my family should ever develop enough magic to be anything more than a Sensitive.”

  “Sensitive?” I hadn’t heard that term before.

  “In the rest of the world, men haven’t been cut out of the loop quite so completely from the world of the covens as they have here. Sensitives help to find and train young witches. Some even sit in their circle as a voting member.”

  I felt my colonial blood rise up at his casual assertion of European enlightenment, but to be honest, I’d never heard of such a thing happening in North America. Warlocks were lone wolves. The more sane among them might cooperate with a friendly circle every once and a while, but they could never be part of one.

  “Are you telling me you belong to a circle?”

  “To be honest, not exactly. I’m not a Sensitive. I have elf blood in me through a long-lost great-grandmother. When my abilities appeared, Gran reappeared to train me. My local coven tolerates it, and they don’t mind using me when the need arises. A few weeks ago, I got into a tangle with a gang of water fae who were causing some trouble on the Isle of Skye.” The side of his mouth quirked up. “I trounced them, of course.”

  “Of course,” I drawled.

  “Since my circle won’t officially embrace me, the fae refused to acknowledge my authority. The local leader of the water fae demanded my head, and it wasn’t metaphorical. So the Circle of Edinburgh voted, and I was directed to make myself scarce until tensions ease, however long that might take.”

  “I’m sorry.” I meant it. The man was in exile.

  Shrugging, Mac flicked his wrist again. A dozen small droplets of water appeared above his hand, turning and swirling in a complicated dance.

  “I can smell the sea,” I murmured.

  He looked at me in surprise. “Of course. We’re close enough to the ocean that it’s easiest to draw my power from the strongest source. Where does your fire come from when there’s no fire near?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve never really thought of it before.”

  Mac raised a gold-blond eyebrow as if he didn’t believe me, but wisely chose not to press it. As we stared at one another, I found myself losing the thread of my attention in the deep blue of his eyes.

  Tingle. Tingle. TINGLE.

  Was it just me, or was it getting too warm in the car? Forcing myself to look away, I turned up the air conditioning, but the blast of cold on my face only made the air feel heavy and damp. As the humidity rose, the windshield started to fog up.

  I gestured at the water droplets still dancing above his hand. “Could you get rid of those?”

  “Of course. Sorry.” He blew on the droplets, making them shudder delicately. Glittering crystals fluttered down from them into his palm. “Could you roll down the window please?”

  I put the passenger side window down and he blew on the droplets again. They flew from his hand to circle the palm tree before sinking into the tired grass at its base. I didn’t think it was my imagination that the grass seemed greener suddenly, or that the tree appeared to lose some of its brittle age.

  Mac opened the door to brush the crystals off his hand onto the road. “Salt,” he explained as he settled back into his seat and pulled the door closed.

  I pushed the button to put his window back up. Already the atmosphere in the car was drier and cooler. “So you’re a human irrigation system?”

  “I wish. Maybe then I could do more good in the world. But there’s always a cost for magic, isn’t there? And right now, I’m parched. Could we drive through somewhere and get something to drink on our way to the pier?”

  I couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that escaped me. “You think I’m still taking you now that I know what you are?”

  He looked honestly confused. “Why should that make any difference? You’re a charming companion, and I would love the company. I would think our magical abilities would only serve to give us more in common to talk about.”

  I didn’t buy it. “Why are you really here? And why do you need to get to the Santa Monica Pier so desperately? Did you know about me? Is that why you hired my father?”

  “Of course not!” Mac shook his head vigorously. “Everything I’ve told you is the truth.”

  But I’d dated enough losers with witch blood to ensure my growing physical desire to just fling myself at the man wouldn’t cloud my mental judgment. Completely.

  “OK, let’s say it is. That doesn’t mean you’ve told me everything.”

  “Perhaps after a nice lunch and a couple of drinks…”

  I folded my arms stubbornly.

  He sighed. “Fine. The trouble with the water fae isn’t the only reason I’m here. Or, at least, specifically in Los Angeles. When I told Gran that I needed to lay low for a while, she thought I could use my time on parole to investigate a growing disturbance at World’s End, and from the looks of the weather, I got here just in time. I promise that meeting you was just
a happy coincidence.”

  “What’s a ‘world’s end’?”

  “You’ve never…? Well, I suppose it’s possible you might not have. It’s more of an elf thing, I guess, and I know there aren’t too many of them this side of the pond.”

  Without knowing what he was really up to, I wasn’t going to reveal that I knew more about elves than the average North American witch. Instead, I tossed my hair and gave him the sort of smile that usually got me exactly what I wanted. I might be a sheep in wolf’s clothing, but most guys never looked that far beneath the alluring surface to find out.

  “I’d love to know more,” I said sweetly.

  But MacAdam Ward could keep his head on straight; I had to give him credit for that. “I’m honestly parched. Let’s grab a couple of drinks to take down to the pier, and then I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

  The smart thing would be to get out and call for a ride, but when had I ever been smart when it came to guys with witch blood in them? Besides, now I was intrigued. And to be fair, he’d been extraordinarily open about what he was. You couldn’t say the same about most witches. Maybe I was getting paranoid after everything that had happened recently back home in Kilkeel. I mean, I wasn’t even positively certain I could trust the members of my own circle anymore.

  “Fine,” I agreed, “but then I want to know everything, or you can get yourself another tour guide.”

  Mac smiled. “Believe me, I wouldn’t dream of missing out on your services.”

  Oh why, oh why was everything sounding like a double entendre?!

  After we found the closest fast food place and picked up a couple of super-size sodas, we made the fifteen-minute drive to the pier in a silence broken only by Mac’s enthusiastic slurping. He finished his kidney-drowning drink long before we pulled into a parking spot in the lot adjacent to Santa Monica Pier.

  It was usually tricky to find a space this close to the pier during the day, but the lot was almost empty. When I got out of the car, I understood why. The temperature had dropped dramatically since we’d left Beverly Hills. I had to use a bit of magic to warm myself up and stop shivering. As Mac got out of the car, I tossed him the keys which he caught deftly.

  “Welcome to Santa Monica Pier,” I pronounced dramatically, waving my arms with a flourish.

  But Mac’s eyes weren’t on me. They were beyond me, gazing at the pier as if it was the most wondrous thing in the world. He flung his arms wide. “No, welcome to World’s End!”

  Chapter Four

  “So, explain it to me like I’m stupid.”

  Without waiting for his answer, I took another hungry bite of my taco. Many had tried, but there was no magic which held a cure for an empty stomach, and I hadn’t yet found a Mexican restaurant on the East Coast that could rival those on the West. Mariasol was right at the end of the pier, past the rides and the famous Ferris wheel, past Bubba Gump Shrimp and the kiosks selling tchotchkes to tourists.

  Mac had wanted to linger, gazing at all the sights, but I’d insisted we find food first. I had a hankering for Mexican, and an even more powerful desire for an explanation. I’d also wanted to find shelter from the biting wind coming off the waves.

  When I looked up, Mac was chuckling. He’d already finished his enchilada and was nursing a glass of sparkling water laced with lime slices. “I would never dare call you stupid, Theresa Ortiz. I knew you were nothing of the sort the moment I met you. But to put it simply, out there…”—he nodded towards the grey ocean visible outside our window—“is where the world comes to an end.”

  I polished off the last of my food and dabbed at my mouth with a napkin. “Except that it doesn’t, of course. And there are more than one of these places, according to you.”

  “Correct.”

  “I still don’t get it.”

  “Think of the old maps. The known world just ended. If you sailed too far, you would drop right off.”

  “Here there be monsters.”

  “Exactly!”

  I covered my smile with my napkin. I wasn’t yet ready to let Mac see that I liked how we finished each other’s sentences. “But there aren’t any monsters. Ships and boats are sailing out there all the time.”

  “The ancient mariners weren’t really that stupid. They were the earliest scientists of the sea! The phrase was a code to warn off anyone with witch blood from accidentally trespassing on a place of perilous magic.”

  Pushing my plate away, I crossed my arms, genuinely impressed by his focus when he only gave my self-admittedly impressive cleavage a cursory glance. “Let’s say that’s true. Why can’t anyone see it? All these years, there had to have been some curious witch or sea fae who went looking for it, but I’ve never heard of it before.”

  “It’s secret, and metaphysical.”

  “Sounds like it’s made up.”

  His smile slipped away. “The elves have always known more than they’ve shared with the rest of the magical world. They’re playing a long game we aren’t even aware of. My great-grandmother told me it was a great secret. She said the world has many hearts, and that each is hidden in the infinitesimal space where this plane of existence ends, and another begins.”

  “And that’s World’s End.”

  “Yes, and one of them is out there. Gran sensed a disturbance, a change, a couple of weeks ago. The pressure has been building ever since.”

  “Something wicked this way comes,” I quoted from Macbeth.

  “Open, locks, whoever knocks.” Mac’s eyes sparkled. “Well, maybe not something wicked, but undeniably powerful. And I need to find it first.”

  “You?”

  His expression brightened even more. “We?”

  “Maybe. What do you think it is then?”

  “Gran told me the Heart of the World is a magic which exists outside of our reality, and beyond any of the laws it. Who knows what someone could do with just a hint of that power? She would have come herself if all elves hadn’t been forbidden by the Elders, but as it turns out, I happen to be a bit of a loophole.”

  At his words, the tacos I’d eaten sat heavy and cold in my stomach. “You know what they say, warlocks are always more ambitious than they are smart! If the elves are too afraid of it, maybe you shouldn’t mess with it either.”

  Mac’s eyes went cold. “But I’m not a warlock, and this has nothing to do with ambition. War is coming to this land. You’re smart. You have to know that. And what starts here will only spread until it fills the world. Did you know the fae outnumber us by at least 10 to 1? And no one knows how many full-blooded demons there are. The elves might be on our side, but they’re so few in number now that they won’t risk themselves directly.”

  His words echoed my own worries. I took a sip of water to calm my growing excitement at his words. What if this was the solution to all our fears? I put the glass down and stood up.

  “All right, I’ll play. You pay while I go freshen up. I know you can afford it.” I let the right kind of smile play over my lips and was rewarded by an almost imperceptible hitch in his breath. Suddenly, I was very glad I’d come to Los Angeles on holiday.

  As I walked across the restaurant towards the narrow corridor leading to the restrooms, I knew his gaze was traveling over every single one of my departing curves. But despite the hope I’d maybe found a guy who was handsome, didn’t live with his parents—or in his friend’s guest house—had magic, and wasn’t crazy, I wasn’t quite ready to throw caution to the wind. As soon as I was out of sight, I pulled out my phone and dialed Melissa’s number. She was the historian of the Circle. If any witch knew anything about World’s End, it would be her.

  “Hello?” a tremulous voice answered. Melissa always sounded as if she feared any call was bad news or bill collectors.

  “Hi, it’s Theresa. Sorry to bother you, but I needed to ask you about something. Have you ever heard of World’s End and something in it called the Heart of the World?”

  There was a long pause. “That’s old lore. Why
do you want to know? Aren’t you on holiday?”

  “I can’t say for sure yet, but I might have found something good, maybe even something Truly can use to unify all the witches and force peace with the fae.”

  There was another pause as she seemed to consider that. “Well, I only recollect bits and pieces from a book I looked through once.”

  “Look, I want you to go get it right away and tell me what it says.”

  “But it belongs to Elizabeth. It was a gift from the time when she was…intimate with that elf. He’d written a very passionate dedication to her in it.” I could practically hear Melissa blushing through the phone.

  I cursed in Spanish under my breath. Elizabeth was the last person I wanted to know about any of this until I was sure. She might be loyal to Truly now, but she was always looking for a chance to grab power back into her own hands.

  “Are you sure there wouldn’t be anything in the Book of the Lady? I know Truly’s still having trouble with it, but maybe she can find something.”

  “I don’t think so. Even if a former Lady of the Circle knew anything about elven lore, it wouldn’t be her place to record it. There is no space for the magic of the fae within the pages of the Book.”

  I might suspect that the strict moral superiority of every single Lady through the ages was doubtful, but Melissa was a true believer, so I didn’t argue. “Fine. Just get it from Elizabeth as quickly as you can. Call me as soon as you find out anything.”

  I hung up and slipped my phone into my pocket. Conscious I’d taken more time than I’d anticipated, I swung around and took a hurried step forward.

  Straight into something very tall and had.

  “Ow!” I cried out, though I was more startled than hurt.

  “Are you all right? I thought you saw me there.”

  Surprised, I looked up into Josh’s warm brown eyes.

  Chapter Five