Chapter Seventeen

The next morning, bright and early, I stood with a gaggle of other commuters and a few tourists, waiting for the ferry. The sound was, if possible, rougher than the day before, with high whitecaps that seemed out of place without any wind to push them. Duke Pinfish was keen to make life miserable for anyone who wanted to use his waters until he had justice for Maria.

Possibly due to the rough waters, the ferry was late, and Stuart was all apologies, but he looked happy to see me, at least.

"You're up bright and early," he said. "Beach day?"

"Thought I'd check it out," I said, not wanting to share the true details of my trip with anyone. "Been a while."

"I'd steer clear of the water, if I were you." He thumbed toward the high waves. "It's even worse on the Gulf side. Red flags all over the place. Nobody's swimming, which is a darn shame. But the merfolk do what they want."

For a split second, I reconsidered taking the ferry across, not wanting Pinfish to rise out of the water and take his revenge on me—along with a boatload of other people—but Stuart, seeming to read my mind, gave me a wink.

"Don't you worry. I've got wards on this ship out the wazoo. Nobody's gonna be tipping us over any time soon. I can't promise a smooth ride, but we'll get you there in one piece."

He wasn't kidding. The ride over was horrific. I'd never been one to get seasick, but I was certainly green by the time the ferry sidled up on the other side. The rest of the passengers were wobbly as they exited the boat, some of them having to empty their stomachs off the dock before continuing to the city.

"I did my best," Stuart said to me as I was the last one to leave. "But these mermaids are steaming mad, you know?"

"Well, if you happen to see one of them, please let them know I'm not interested in keeping this war going," I said. "Aimee's innocent, but if they want to work together to find the real culprit, I'd be happy to tell them what I know."

He pushed his hat up. "You know something?"

"Well, not yet." I stared at the high-rises and picture-perfect streets beyond. "But I will."

"Good luck." He turned to walk back onto the ferry but stopped. "If you ask me, you should go get some fried oysters from the Oyster Pearl. It's inside the Grand Gulf Hotel." He winked. "Not that I want to make any enemies on the other side of the sound, but they've got the best ones, in my humble opinion."

"I'll be sure to do that." I smiled. "Thanks, Stuart. I'll see you in a few hours."

Big Jo had told me that when she'd moved to Eldred's Hollow as a little girl, the beach across the sound was nothing but a flat barrier island, covered in white sand, sticker bushes, and sea oats that kept the dunes from washing away in storms. Now, the sidewalks beneath my feet were pristine, the grass an almost unnatural green. Even the sun seemed to shine brighter over here, but perhaps that was because it was reflected by the glass-covered buildings. Fountains and other water features sat in front of the large, gated condos and hotels that stretched up into the crystal blue sky. Every car had an out-of-town license plate, and every face on the street was somewhat sunburned.

The good news was, since it was a tourist town now, there were helpful maps plastered on light posts every other block. I stopped in front of one, searching for anything that might indicate a watercraft rental place. I assumed Cal owned everything on this island now, including the recreations, so I headed in the direction of the first one I found.

On the sound-side of one of the "smaller" buildings (in that it was only twenty stories instead of thirty) was a long stretch of beach covered in all kinds of boats. Kayaks, canoes, jet skis, and the motorboats that came to the Cove every so often. I hadn't really noticed that they were all the same, but lined up like this, the shared coloring and branding was impossible to miss.

A young witch was working behind the counter, staring at her phone as I walked up. She put it down, glancing around as if looking for her boss to come scold her for goofing off on the job, before finally turning to me. Thankfully, she didn't seem to recognize me at all. The benefit of crossing a body of water, I guessed.

"Morning," she said. "What do you want to rent?"

"Oh, um." I turned to the shoreline, realizing at that moment I hadn't come up with a plan. "I guess I was curious about the safety measures you guys had. I've had some bad experiences with mermaids in the past. I hear you guys have some clans around here."

"Ummm… I don't know." And based on her vacant expression, she probably didn't. "I can ask my manager, though."

Seemed like something a salesperson should've known, but I nodded and let her disappear behind the open door. I didn't actually want to talk to her manager, as there was a better chance they might recognize me or send me away for asking questions. But I was close enough to that back door, I thought…maybe if I could summon?

It was a big ask. While Big Jo's wand had undoubtedly summoned a lot, the last time I'd tried it, the results had been disastrous. But after all day yesterday without a mishap, I was feeling oddly confident.

"Okay," I whispered to the wand. "Bring me the mermaid-stunning potion."

I waved the wand and closed my eyes, magic shimmering down my arm into the wand and giving me hope that maybe, maybe, I'd finally figured this magic thing out. But when I opened my eyes, there wasn't a potion vial in my hand.

In fact, my hand wasn't there at all.

"What the—" No, not my hand. My arm. My feet. My legs. When I touched my stomach and legs, they were physically there. But when I looked down, it was sand and water.

I'd somehow turned myself invisible.

"Just frickin' perfect." I ran my hand over my hair, grateful to feel the strands under my fingertips, at least. How I'd managed to do this, I hadn't a clue, but I was sure if I asked Lois, she'd tell me it was some complex spell only advanced witches attempted. Or that she'd tell me I was stuck this way for the rest of my life.

Either way, I—

"Well? Where is she?"

I jumped at the angry voice as a vampire came storming out of the small shack, his white-blonde hair slicked back and his linen suit way too fine for a man who (presumably) managed a watercraft rental service. His red-faced subordinate was behind him, squeezing her hands together as she frantically looked around.

I started, ready to run, then remembered that they couldn't see me.

"She was right here," the poor witch mumbled, looking like she'd already been lectured for interrupting him. "Guess she didn't want to wait."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Michelle, what did I tell you to say when people asked about mermaids?"

"Um…" Her face grew bright red. "I don't remember."

"Mermaids are not a problem in Eldred's Beach," he said, enunciating every word as if she were a small child. "Understand? That is the line we tell customers."

"But…" She rubbed her arms.

"In fact, tell them we don't have them in the sound." He gestured to the water beyond. "Nothing to worry about."

I straightened. That was a lie.

"But there are mermaids in the sound, I thought?" she said. "I mean, I've seen them—"

He gave her a look like he was regretting his teenaged hire. "We've added precautions so they won't bother our customers. So as far as they're concerned, there aren't any mermaids here."

Precautions. Would mermaid-stunning potions be a part of that?

"Then why don't we tell them that?"

Fates bless her, she really had no clue.

"Because it's a delicate situation," he said, clearly trying to choose his words wisely. "Now, tell me again: what do we do when someone asks about mermaids?"

"They aren't here," she recited, almost robotically. "The sound is safe for watercraft of all kinds. There's no need to worry. Give me your money."

He glared at her for that last comment but said nothing more and disappeared back into his cave.

The teenager stuck her tongue out at him and returned to her stool, pulling out her phone and watching videos I could vaguely hear. I stood motionless for a second, before slowly walking toward her. She was too engrossed in her phone to notice the footprints on the white sand, but the creak in the wood was unmistakable.

I winced, watching her, but she didn't look up, swiping on her phone to watch another video.

I kept moving, tiptoeing through the door the vamp had gone through. It wasn't enough that he'd alluded to his precautions. I needed the actual potion.

And also for the police to believe me, but I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

The vampire manager had taken great pains to block out any sunlight so he could move about freely. But I didn't actually see him. I kept walking, conscious of the sound of my feet on the ground, until I found a door—and on the other side of that, a downward staircase.

That wasn't creepy or anything.

Holding my breath, I descended the stairs, hoping I wouldn't run into anyone. I was invisible, but I still had a presence, and if someone were to brush up against me, they'd surely feel it. I didn't see the manager at all, though, until I reached the bottom of the stairs. He was sitting in an office, watching some soap opera and sucking down a glass of blood. I was grateful the invisibility magic hid my disgusted expression.

The door on the other side of the room was open, and I was able to slip through without making a sound.

It took a minute to understand what I was looking at. A long, narrow road made of gravel lined with shops stretched out before me. The sound of rushing water echoed through the cavern, which stretched up into the darkness overhead.

The vampires had built themselves a whole town under Eldred's Beach?

I shouldn't have been surprised, and yet, I was mesmerized by everything. The beach flooded every time there was even a tropical storm, yet they'd managed to put this whole thing together and keep it intact—but then, even my limited magic picked up on the tingle in the air. Another partnership between witch and vampire.

I let my gaze wander as I strolled down the narrow street. Each shop was its own building with a narrow alley between them, and they seemed to lack for none of the modern conveniences tailored for the vampire audience. There were shops carrying blood-based treats, dark wardrobes with SPF 100, and even—ugh—coffins. One store seemed a bit more magical than the others, and the woman inside was, in fact, a witch.

I didn't have to wait long before a vamp came by to open the door, and as soon as she was through, I slid in behind her. The witch at the counter brightened, standing under one of those seasonal affective disorder heat lamps.

"Good morning," she said. "What can I do for you today?"

"Just this." The vamp picked up one of the many large tins sitting on a table in the center of the shop. Upon closer inspection, they showed an SPF amount and a promise to keep the evil sun off delicate skin.

Vampire makeup. So that was where Cal got his stuff.

While the vampire chatted with the witch, I did a quick scan of the store. Not that I thought there would be mermaid-stunning potion down here, out in the open, but maybe in the back? I didn't want to get too close to the witch, lest she sense me—and my escape was leaving.

But as I tried to slip out with her, I bumped into her in my haste, and she spun around, looking at me as if she could see me.

After a moment, she shook herself and continued down the street.

I put my hand to my head, telling myself I needed to be more careful, when I saw a familiar face inside one of the large-windowed shops.

Cal Reaves was getting yet another white linen suit fitted. The tailor hovered around his feet, adjusting the hem and pulling it down, speaking up to him with an adoration that seemed borderline obsessive. I stood in front of the window pressed my ear against it to try to hear their conversation.

"Yes, this is a fine fit," Cal said, admiring the sleeves.

"Doused in the finest witch's brew for keeping the sun off one's skin," the tailor replied. "Do you like it, sir?"

"I do, indeed. Fine work, James."

The tailor flashed a grin, confirming that he, too, was a vamp.

Cal stepped into a dressing room, and a few moments later, returned in a smart black suit without a tie, heading for the door without another word to the tailor.

I sprang back from the window, intent on following him. But Cal stopped in the middle of the narrow street, looking over his shoulder. I could've sworn he was looking directly at me, but his dark eyes never focused on my exact spot. He sniffed, an uncharacteristic sneer on his face, and turned back to continue walking.

I was keeping my distance, making sure to avoid vampires on the street, when there was a tingle in my fingers. I lifted my hand and actually saw a faint outline. Fates. It was probably a good thing I wasn't going to be invisible forever, but the dang spell could've waited until I was out of vampire land before turning me back.

But no, I was at forty percent opacity now, if I were to guess, and since a witch appearing in the street out of nowhere might cause a stir, I dashed back into the safety of an alleyway until I was fully formed. I peered out, searching for any sign of Cal, but the streets were clear.

"Well, Jo Maelstrom."

I jumped nearly out of my skin, spinning around to where Cal was standing ten feet behind me.

"H-hey, Cal," I said, struggling to look like I wasn't scared out of my mind. "Fancy seeing you here."

"In the vampire underground?" he asked with a quirked brow. "It's more interesting seeing you here."

"Oh. Um." I scanned the street, desperate for something that might give me a good excuse to be here. I didn't think it was illegal for a witch to be wandering the streets, but as I didn't work here, there wasn't a good reason for me to be down here. Finally, my gaze landed on a shop selling tinctures of blood. "Aimee sent me here to get a fresh pint of blood. Y-you know, in case we get a vampire looking for a drink."

He smiled, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I thought he might've caught me in my lie. "You'll probably want more than a pint. Vampires can be a thirsty bunch."

I let out a nervous laugh, inching backward. "Well, I've got enough arms for a pint, so—"

"Why don't I arrange for a full fridge to be sent to the Cove?" he said, coming to stand beside me in a single, fluid movement. I didn't even feel the air move. "It's the least I can do, especially with your dear grandmother passing so suddenly."

"That would be…lovely," I said, uncomfortable with how close he was to me.

"Excellent. Now that's out of the way, why don't you pop by for a drink more palatable to your witch sensibilities?" I didn't think he'd take no for an answer. "Come, come, my offices are right up ahead."