Deck choked on a tidal surge of oceanic power.
Not his. Meaghan’s. Whatever magical levy had been holding her water power in check collapsed abruptly under the ritual’s onslaught. She was a strong water witch, stronger than he was. But she was completely uncontrolled, untaught, and without meaning to, she was using her powers in dangerous ways.
Deck sensed the wave building at the same time Meaghan began to thrash and bubble as if she were drowning. She was so attractive to water right now that it was actually raining over her, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The humidity in the air was collecting, rushing into her, and given how humid Oregon was, it was going to kill her with its love.
Shit shit shit shit.
“Jude, hold her up,” Deck yelled. “Kyle, do something—she’s drowning. Someone get her shielded, fast!” He was probably best suited to that, being the water worker, but there wasn’t time. They’d set up the ritual in the seaside garden area, just beyond the beach, because of Meaghan’s latent water power. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. But not now.
A big ass rogue wave was on its way as the ocean rushed to greet the water witch just released from her bonds. Pity the ocean didn’t know it would endanger said witch and them, not to mention a few fishing boats and whichever of the kids were on the beach—and there were always some, either Donovans or kids playing hooky from town. With any luck, Heather was with them. But she was only thirteen, even if she was powerful. He hadn’t been blowing bubbles when he’d said she was better than he was in a ritual setting. But pulling something out of your ass in a crisis took practice. There were a lot of factors to consider so that while trying to avert a disaster at point A, you don’t cause one at point B.
Deck didn’t have that much practice in actual crises. He tried to avoid them whenever possible, instead of rushing into them like his parents and some of his other relatives did. But spontaneously improving the wave conditions for his surfing buddies without fucking things up down the coast couldn’t be that different from dissipating a big wave on the fly without fucking things up down the coast.
He kept telling himself that, anyway. It was definitely harder since he wasn’t right on the beach. He could see the water, feel the water, but they were high enough up that even the big surf only spritzed the area.
Most of the time. He’d never seen it himself, but his parents’ generation remembered a storm that brought waves crashing onto the garden they were in now, despite the water witches’ and weather workers’ efforts.
The wave that was coming was one of those.
With half his brain, Deck worked desperately to pull the water back from Meaghan’s lungs, to give her room to breathe. With the other half he reached out to the ocean, reminding it of all the good times they’d shared, imploring it to calm the fuck down.
The ocean acknowledged him, but the wave was still building. Meaghan was calling it without knowing she was doing so, and her wild call appealed to the untamed ocean more than Deck’s more contained power could.
People were springing into action all around him, mostly working on Meaghan. Jan and his grandmother had taken over for Kyle, who’d kept her breathing long enough for the healers to get a handle on the magical aspect of the problem.
Great. With them taking care of Meaghan, he could focus completely on what he had to do.
Which was to stop playing nice. The Donovan way was to work gently with the powers of nature, but even the more rule-bound older generation admitted it didn’t always work. In tight situations, you had to punt—and this was a tight situation.
Deck chanted, not one of the traditional Gaelic spells, but a steady English chant of “Calm down. She just meant to say hello, not call the great waves.” Donovan ancestors had learned Gaelic water spells from the aquatic fae called selkies when Ireland was still tiny kingdoms ruled by feuding kings, but sometimes Deck needed simpler words, words from the heart. “Please. Calm down. Don’t hurt anyone.”
Deck sensed the ocean recognized his words and was trying to obey, but Meaghan was still sending out her wild call. Less than a minute had passed since he sensed the wave building, but there was no time to waste. What had started far out to sea was now dangerously close to shore.
Deck did something he almost never did. He called deliberately upon his other power, the one that played neither by Donovan rules nor those of his mother’s family, from whom he’d inherited it.
Lightning flashed out of a clear sky, followed by a great clap of thunder as the lightning struck the water. At the same time, he made his water power into a metaphysical fist and smashed down on the growing wave.
The lightning was just enough energy to heat the surface of the water a degree or two. Even magical lightning couldn’t violate physics completely, which was a damn shame under the circumstances. And the impact of the “fist” would do nothing against the vast force of a riled-up Pacific. But magical lightning meeting a magically conjured wave had an effect that physics hadn’t figured out how to explain yet, especially when backed up by a dope slap from his other powers.
The ocean had a consciousness of sorts, and the desperation behind the lightning strike and blow got the wave’s attention.
Gave him room to slip soothing water magic in while the wave was, for want of a more precise word, distracted.
The wave began to dissipate. It would take time for the ocean to calm itself completely, but Deck’s sense of the water’s movement told him the immediate danger had been prevented.
Surrounded by healers, Kyle supporting her, Meaghan was breathing normally. Thank the Powers. But water magic was never that fucking simple. Deck still had to disperse all the wave energy properly, making sure it didn’t store up and end up doing something freakish later. He dispersed it into a series of waves, all up and down the coast, large enough to make for a great day of surfing or boarding or wave watching, but no danger as long as people were halfway careful. Maybe he could get Paul to help him put a keep-away spell on the closest public beaches for the next few hours, something to keep newbie surfers and little kids away.
Meaghan sat up, shakily. “Why is my hair wet?” she said. “And why do I feel the ocean is inside me?”
Before anyone could answer, she started to seize.
And then she stopped.
Her wet hair tried to stand on end, but the convulsion stopped before it started. With his own water power, Deck sensed how Meaghan’s raw connection to the ocean was buffering the worst effects of the vision that even he could tell was coming.
“The Agency figured it out,” she said, her voice deep and raspy yet sexy, not the light, shy, girlish voice Deck had heard only a few times but would, he realized with a start, recognize anywhere. “The Agency knows I’m still alive and its blocks on me are gone. They know there are only a few places where this could have happened, and they are looking for me. And when they find me, they will find Jocelyn. Even if I leave here now, they will find Jocelyn. I saw it just now.” Her voice returned to normal as she added, “I’m so sorry.”
“We knew we’d have to deal with them eventually,” Elissa said drily. “Better that we get to choose the ground.” Elissa really had changed, Deck thought. Her earlier rant when Meaghan told her story might have been bravado in the face of fear, but this sounded like Elissa had thought things through and was prepared for a fight.
Looking around, he saw the same determination on the faces of everyone in the circle. He’d expect it from Jude and Rafe, who were big carnivores, territorial and protective of their woman and cub and, by extension, of all the Donovans. Jocelyn was the granddaughter Aunt Jan thought she’d never have, so of course Aunt Jan was game. And Aunt Bath was testy anyway, because of the ghosts. But Kyle looked ready to kick some butt too. Demons and devas, even Grandma Roz looked ready to kick some butt and hundred-year-old healers didn’t do that kind of thing. Even less than otters did.
Deck thought longingly of Hawaii, where the surfing was always good and where Pele’s influence kept dark magic away. The volcano spirit had no qualms about flaming anyone who caused trouble on her turf. Right now, it sounded great.
How quickly could he get a ticket to Hawaii? Would Kyle come with him?
“How much time do we have?” Trust Jude to ask the practical questions.
Meaghan shook her head as if it would jar her thoughts loose. “They’re confused now, angry. They know the spells on me are gone, know my full powers are loose—hell, they know I’m alive and they weren’t sure before—but they don’t know where I am. Someone was aware of the spells being removed, and before you ask, I don’t know who. The visions are never that clear. Someone Shaw would trust to monitor the spells…”
“If the person is smart, it shouldn’t take him too long to figure out there are only a few places a witch can disappear off the magical grid so entirely, and only a few people on the West Coast who can break the kind of spells that were on you,” his grandmother said, the harsh truth only slightly softened by her gentle, lilting brogue.
“Basically us or the Hailey-Moritomos down in Monterey. Maybe the de la Vegas, but their main power base is in Mexico so they don’t feel as strongly about pranking the Agency as American witches do. We might as well have sent up a fucking flare.” Deck put it together way too easily. He could only hope the people at the Agency were a little slower.
He suspected they weren’t.
Forget Hawaii. For the first time in his life, he felt that Donovan urge to face trouble head on.
Kyle wasn’t going to abandon Meaghan. Deck could tell by the look on Kyle’s face and the way the muscles in his tan arms roped from holding Meaghan so close, by the way Meaghan clung to the otter as if he was her safety in what had to be a terrifying world. Kyle, the otter who wanted to be a hero, wouldn’t be able to resist that. Hell, Deck wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist the little blonde’s combination of fragility and strength, even if he weren’t able to sense the oceanic power that surged in her, calling to his from a distance.
If Kyle was going to be a hero for Meaghan, Deck would just have to put on his big-witch panties and be a hero for Kyle.
Not to mention for his family, his cousin’s baby and a pretty girl he barely knew.
But yeah, mostly for the guy Deck had to man up and admit he loved.