Page 57 of The Water Witch (Fairwick Chronicles 2)

TWENTY-ONE

Liz insisted on driving me back. “Diana can drive my car back to the inn,” she explained as we walked to my car, “and I don’t think you should be driving so soon after your…journey.” She started to say something else but then glanced out at the fields and motioned for me to get inside the car. As soon as we were inside, with the windows rolled up, she didn’t waste any more time getting to the point. She turned to me. “Brock’s right,” she said. “Your incubus is back.”

She said it as if I’d had a reccurrence of shingles or bedbugs.

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” I said defensively. “I’d still be spinning through space if Liam hadn’t pulled me back, and that wouldn’t have worked if he weren’t my true love.”

Liz clucked her tongue and started the car. “According to him, Callie!” she said, keeping her eyes on the road and grasping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “He’s enslaved you. Look at yourself. You’ve got so much Aelvesgold in your system that you’re glowing. He’s gotten you addicted to the stuff.”

“Oh, so now I’m an addictanda sex slave…Hey, wait a second, I’ve been using Aelvesgold under the direction of Duncan Laird, the tutoryougot for me.”

A pained look crossed Liz’s face and she took her eyes off the road long enough to give me a doleful stare.

“You don’t think …?”

Liz turned her eyes back to the road but not before I saw her lip tremble. “I’m sorry, Callie, but yes, I think Duncan Laird is your incubus.”

“No,” I said, my stomach roiling. “You said he was recommended by a member of the circle…”

“Yes, but I’m afraid it’s possible that the circle member who recommended him might not have been acting with your best interests in mind.”

“Who …?” I began, thinking of Moondance’s obvious hostility and wondering if she had been the one to recommend Duncan, but Liz silenced me with a raised hand.

“I’d rather not say until I’ve verified my suspicions, but I think we have to consider the possibility that Mr. Laird might have been foisted on us under false pretenses.”

“But you checked his references personally.”

“Such things can be faked. I’m afraid now that I might not have been careful enough. Believe me when I say that the thought that I may have made the same mistake twice and put you in harm’s way again is deeply mortifying to me.”

Liz’s face, even in profile, was so pained that I had to look away. I looked out the window at the woods that lay to the west of Trask Road, into the deep shadows of the pines. The same woods where I’d roamed as a deer and an owl with Duncan Laird. I had felt an attraction to him—he was undoubtedly a handsome man—but when he’d tried to kiss me, the wards had prevented him.

“Duncan can’t be the incubus. My wards pushed him away.”

“That might be a trick, Callie.”

But it hadn’t just been the wards. “I pushed him away,” I said, turning back to Liz. “I wouldn’t let him kiss me.”

“Well,” Liz said with a tentative smile, “maybe you’ve finally developed some sense.”

I sighed. I’d very much like to agree with Liz that I was developing better judgment in my love life, but I doubted it. I had slept with Liam in Faerie and in my dreams. So why would I have any better judgment if Duncan were my incubus in the flesh?

I pondered in silence until we headed up Elm Street to my house.

“What are we going to do? Duncan Laird is coming over tonight. Should I still go ahead and transform with him? If he’s the incubus, it could be a trick.”

“It may indeed,” she said with a grim set to her lips. “I’m afraid that what Duncan’s been doing with you hasn’t unlocked your power…” She slammed her hand against the steering wheel. “What an idiot I’ve been! I’ve compromised your power just when we needed it the most—and Lorelei’s still on the loose.”

“Soheila didn’t find her at Lura’s house?” I asked.

“Lura wouldn’t let her in.”

“I could try talking to Lura,” I said. “She let me into her house before.”

“I think it’s better if you try to rest up. I have another idea of how to trap Lorelei. I’m going to ask the Stewarts to help.”

“The Stewarts?” I asked, remembering the plaid-shirted farmers at the diner and the guileless boy I’d met last night in the woods. “Do you mean Mac Stewart’s family?”

“Oh, so you’ve met him…a nice boy, although a bit thick. Yes, his father, Angus, and his brothers are part of an ancient order that has protected the woods for generations. I’ll coordinate their efforts…oh, hellfire!”

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