‘She’s going to be incredible.’
‘You think it’s a good thing?’ she asked. ‘Not for my blood pressure clearly, but in general?’
‘I already feel stronger,’ I admitted. ‘Sharper. Like the signal is coming in clearer or something.’
‘First time we’ve seen two witch families in Savannah indecades. Maybe since her great-great-grandmother. This is going to change things.’
‘Hopefully for the better,’ I replied, but Ashley didn’t respond, just reached over and turned on the radio as I burrowed down in my seat, the image of Lydia standing at the edge of the ocean burned into my mind.
With Lydia sleeping so deeply an earthquake wouldn’t have woken her, Jackson was nominated to stay at Bell House and make sure she was safe, leaving me and Ashley to go looking for Wyn. None of us were especially happy with the situation but Jackson couldn’t very well leave his twin, and the thought of driving around Hilton Head searching for my AWOL boyfriend with him by my side didn’t fill me with joy. Which meant Ashley was my only option because I couldn’t drive and, unlike my grandmother, I couldn’t bring myself to drag Barnett, our family driver, out of bed in the middle of the night. I couldn’t bear to drag him anywhere ever – having a driver on call still felt absurd to me – but he’d done Catherine’s bidding without knowing for decades and as far as I was concerned, he had a job for the rest of his life if he wanted it.
The car pulled forward, Ashley hitting the accelerator as we left Savannah behind, making our way onto the open road.
‘Any idea where your boy’s at?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ I admitted unhappily. ‘He’s in Hilton Head but I don’t know where.’
‘I thought you had your special witchy GPS?’
Without asking permission, I turned off the radio; pop songs were too cheerful, slow jams too depressing. In the darkened window of the passenger side, I saw an outline of myself, ghostly and glum.
‘Can’t see him.’
‘Can’t see anyone or can’t see him?’
Back at Bell House, I could feel Jackson’s anxiety spiking every time Lydia murmured in her sleep but he needn’t have worried. Her energy was golden and bright, even as she slept.
‘Just Wyn,’ I replied.
‘Has that ever happened before?’
‘Only once.’
‘Em, I appreciate you’re going through something but I just crossed state lines in my pyjamas so it would be great to get a little more clarity without having to prise every damn word from your mouth.’
‘I couldn’t feel him during his phase,’ I told her. ‘After he turned.’
‘But tonight isn’t a full moon.’
‘Sure isn’t.’
‘Jeez,’ Ashley muttered, slamming her foot down to the floor. ‘Wish I hadn’t asked.’
Not knowing where to start, I directed Ashley to the Stovells’ beach house, peaceful and still, half the lights still on from where we’d run out in such a hurry.
‘You’re telling me Ileen lets people come stay here all the time? Without charging them a penny?’ She gave a low whistle, closing her car door almost silently as she surveyed the front of the property. ‘Note to self, be nicer to her at the next historical society meeting.’
If Wyn had come back to the beach house, it wouldn’t be to hang out in the den, it would be to investigate the bonfire, but how could he do that without me? He wouldn’t understand the crystals or the herbs; running off without me only put him at risk.
‘Maybe he’s on the beach,’ I suggested, directing Ashley to the backyard, too preoccupied to hear her running commentaryon the house’s finest features. ‘Unless you’d rather I leave you with the hot tub?’
‘I’d rather you left me in bed,’ she replied, following dutifully through the gate. ‘But here we are.’
A trace of magic still lingered along the boardwalk. It wasn’t so very late, so the beach shouldn’t have been deserted. Ashley, with the blessing in her blood, resisted when I pulled her along toward the soaked and smouldering mess down by the water.
‘This does not make me want to pull out a guitar and start singing “Kumbaya”,’ she stated, holding herself back from the stack of wood and ashes, the disjointed ring of crystals still dotting the sand where they had fallen.
‘Our oaks.’ Ashley laid a hand on one of the blackened tree trunks, her usually dry eyes full of tears. ‘This is a nasty business, Em. I really hope Wyn isn’t caught up in it.’
