Page 97 of Bewicched

When he parked, the sun was just setting. It was late spring, early summer and the sun set around eight at night. It wasn’t late, but I was exhausted.

“I realize this is overstepping, but I don’t feel comfortable driving away when we have a sorcerer on the run and everyone knows you’re the one who found her,” he said.

“It could have been Gran,” I countered.

He shook his head. “They were all looking at you. They know who saved your grandmother and uncovered the sorcerer. Someone tried to burn down your gallery last night.”

“Are you looking for a sleepover invitation?”

“Yes. I’d feel better if I could stay on the couch and you stayed in your loft. You can consider me your guard wolf.”

I hated to admit it, but I felt safer when he was around too. “Okay, you can sleep on my couch, but this better not be a ploy to clean out my refrigerator while I’m sleeping.”

He crossed his heart and held up his fingers in a Scout salute.

“All right. Let’s go.” I slid out of the truck, holding my bag by its broken strap. Declan carried in the empty baked goods carrier and a duffle bag. After we entered, I relocked the gallery door and set my own magical ward. We crossed the gallery, our footsteps echoing in the huge, empty room.

I put another ward on the studio door once we were through it. “You’re not hearing any heartbeats other than our own, right?”

We both stood still a moment and his brows furrowed. I began to prepare a spell for whoever was laying in wait when he pointed at the back door.

“No. You do, however, have a naked guy standing on a post out there.”

I huffed out a relieved breath and then realized he was serious. I went to the back door, spell ready, and stared at the slight man with almost translucent hair and very familiar eyes. Declan tried to stop me when I reached for the doorknob, but I patted his hand away.

Wind blew the door out of my hand, the sound of the surf a comforting roar.

“Wilbur?”

He bowed his head. “You may call me that, mistress, but my name is Emrys.”

I nodded, unable to speak. A selkie? Wilbur was a selkie?

“My master is pleased you are wearing his earrings. He hopes this means you will someday be willing to meet with him.”

I nodded again.

“Lovely. I’ll let him know. In the meantime, he wanted to make sure you were aware that if you touch those earrings without gloves, he will know you need him and will listen.”

Holy—“Seriously?”

“Absolutely.”

I wasn’t sure why, but it felt important that he knew this. “Can you tell him that I didn’t know these earrings were a gift from him. I thought they were from my aunt, and they seemed to cause so much strife in the family, I left them in the box, looking at them often. They are the most beautiful and precious things I own.”

Emrys-Wilbur smiled and bowed again. “I will pass this message on to my master. It will mean a great deal to him.”

“Good. Um, should I stop throwing the tennis ball? I thought you were a harbor seal. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“I travel back and forth between the realms. My master gave me the task of watching you to make sure you were well. When I’m in this world, I enjoy the ball game and would like to continue it. In fact”—he opened his hand and there was the soggy yellow tennis ball—“you’re it.” He threw the ball over my head, donned his seal skin, and dove into the ocean.

41

In Which Arwyn Comes to Terms With Her Life Being a Bit Too Interesting

Declan and I looked at each other and then back out the door.

“So, that happened,” I said.

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