Water Witch by Amelia Bishop Page A

squinted into the trees, but it was too dark for me, I didn’t have Maxwell’s talent for seeing in the dark. My pulse pounded. What was he doing here? Why? Nolan shot me a questioning glance, noticing my change in mood, and I shook my head. Shit, I hadn’t felt wrong about it a few moments ago, but the mention of Salil and I suddenly had the feeling I was doing something shady. It wasn’t like we were dating or anything, that ‘secret boyfriend’ thing was just a joke. Right?
    “Look at you, all guilty, like you got caught looking.” Maxwell shook his head and finished his wine. He stood and announced, “I gotta get home, work tomorrow.”
    Jasper joined him, collecting our empty wine bottles from the grass. “Me too.”
    Maxwell took a last glance into the woods, then asked, “You want a ride home?” his tone implying that I really should take it.
    “Uh, yeah, okay.” I gave Nolan an apologetic shrug as I left, and he turned his attention to a few older guys still laughing and drinking by the fading fire.
     
    My mom seemed surprised to see me home so early, but said nothing, just kissed me and went to her bedroom. I crawled into bed eagerly, expecting a dream-meeting with Salil. None came, and I woke disappointed. I got a call from a customer, who’d picked up one of my cards from the health club, and I booked her for an hour massage on Friday. Then I went to the beach to practice journeying again. Maybe I’d get a clearer picture of whatever trauma was in store for me.
    But it was just more of the same: the same water washing away the roots, the same destruction, I even had the same panicky reaction. Exiting the vision, I flopped back onto the warm sand and breathed deeply, trying to push those worries away. They wouldn’t help me.
    I pulled myself together and tried another divination, this time focused on Salil. I pictured his face, his body, imagined his smell, and remembered his voice and speech patterns. When I had him in my mind I tried to go to him, to divine where he was and what he was doing. This was a tricky maneuver, as my powers mostly lay in future events, not spying on people in the present time. Yet it was the only way I could imagine instigating a psychic meeting with him.
    ***
    He was sitting on a bench in the forest, in the center of a rustic garden. He wore another of his exotic tunics, pale orange this time and embroidered with swirling vines in gold. For a moment, I was so overjoyed I’d managed to locate him I almost lost the vision, but I got myself under control. He looked sad, staring at a tiny sprig of thyme in his hand. Then he twisted his head to the side as if he heard an odd sound, and a smile crept across his face. His eyes snapped to mine and he laughed. “My witch, you are growing brave.”
    “You were right, about the practicing. Thank you.”
    He lifted his hand and gestured me toward him. I twitched my foot to follow him, felt the sand shift under me, and froze. “I don’t know how—”
    “Not with your body, Vincenzo. Just your mind. Visualize coming here and sitting on the bench near me.”
    I did want to sit near him. I moved, and my body stayed on the beach. For an odd minute I was in both places at once, and a feeling of wrongness sent a shiver through me.
    “All the way, love, right here.” He patted the bench.
    I pulled away from my body with a sharp snap. “I don’t like this. Salil, I feel weird.”
    “As you should. Your mind is split into two. I am surprised you are managing it.” He beamed at me, and his pride helped soothe the feeling of disconnect.
    I moved to the bench, as if I was floating over the forest floor, and sat near him without feeling the bench under me. “Why were you able to touch things in my vision, but I can’t?”
    “I am Fae.” He tilted his head and smiled. “You were hoping to touch me?”
    “Maybe,” I flirted back. If we couldn’t touch, I might as well be more brazen. “Were you at my coven last