Page 54 of Tide Touched

‘Ah, is that why you keep me around?’ Elijah winds an arm around her waist, bringing her to him, and kisses her cheek. ‘Because I’m handy?’

‘No, I keep you around to carry my stuff.’ Moira kisses him back.

Killian and I avert our gazes. I’m tempted to make a dramatic gross noise just to interrupt them but hold back.

We find a cave large enough to comfortably fit the four of us, dump our stuff, and spread out.

I’m looking for water—to drink, hopefully bathe in, and to practice this witchy power I’m supposed to have. The others are out hunting for food and setting up a fire trigger trap for any intruders who get too close.

I take a moment to absorb my surroundings. The caves are set into a large, rocky wall which seems to stretch indefinitely into the sky, piercing the white, fluffy clouds high above as the sun rises.

The area is patchy with tufts of grass mingled with rock, and to the left is a dense forest. The caves are hidden well by the face of the cliff. At this angle, they’re invisible. In fact, if I didn’t know they were there, I would have never suspected the wall provided its hidden pockets. Hopefully the Water Pack wolves don’t know about them.

By the brightening sky, I manage to find a small river, no thicker than the length of my arm. Not bad, but I want something larger. With a current, waves.

I keep searching, always looking over my shoulder to spot the cave—hard as it is to see, it’s the slightly darker line that appears to only be a shadow, but I know better.

After a while, I find a river. The running water is as familiar as the blood in my veins. I lower myself to the edge, trying to see how deep it is. I find a rock near the bank.

I peel my socks and shoes off, carefully climbing down onto the rock, water rushing over my toes, the cool wetness is a welcome wake-up. I silently curse that there will not be showers in our cave. This being on the run thing seems to be all cons. It might have included one pro if Killian and I had, you know, done stuff, last night, I think resentfully. I mean, the kiss was amazing, but hardly private.

I crouch down on the rock, steady beneath my feet, peering into the water, focusing on the waves, the current. I want to close my eyes to focus, but I would probably end up falling off the rock and majestically tumble into the stream. Yeah, let’s not.

I keep my eyes open, then. If I’m half witch, bring it on, Tide power. I stretch out my hands and waggle my fingers expectantly. I bite my lower lip when nothing happens. Okay, this did not come with a manual. I blow a raspberry out, glad that no one is watching.

I push back the stupid thoughts that I’m a shitty fire-user, and now I’m also a shitty water-user. Yay, sucking at two powers!

My gaze catches on the current just ahead, raised on a slight hill, slipping down to greet me. The waves draw me in. I wish I could see other rocks to stand on, to find a path.

Before I know what I’m doing, I sit down on the rock, my dress flowing around me in the water. I raise my hands, together at first, then part them, drawing the water with me like opening a curtain. I watch, wide-eyed, as the water moves to my whim. I open the current, and the water obeys, the little waves swimming to meet me like a dear friend.

I’m not like Moses parting the sea or anything—I’ve read the humans’ bible—but it’s a start. Just like a few sparks can be pretty handy at times, too. Like setting blonde bitch’s hair on fire. Something is better than nothing.

For a while, I repeat the motions, patiently parting the small current, watching it fold in on itself, like a baker kneading dough, folding it over and over.

When I feel comfortable with that, I look back, watching the stream wind behind me like a long, blue-silver ribbon. The shimmering sunlight on the water reminds me of the Water Pack’s Suit Guys. I push the thought away, determined to focus.

I wonder… I stand up on my rock, surprised that my bare feet easily find purchase instead of slipping. I glance to either side, taking it all in. I look to my left, find the current and part it, like slicing it with a knife, cleaving the water apart. I watch the ripple affect flow down around me, licking up my ankles as it passes, then watch it flow to the other side, the affect the largest one I’ve done yet.

I smile. This feels right. That’s new. The kind of right that Killian feels.

I remember what the Tide Witches did to allow us to leave their cave, revealing the rock pathway. I squint into the stream, then cleave the waves before me, revealing another large, nearby rock. I hop lightly to it, and start cleaving the water before me to reveal the next, and the next.

After a while, I don’t have to concentrate on it so hard, and it becomes something like instinct—cleave, hop, cleave, hop. I make my way down the long, winding stream, the feeling so natural it would feel odd to walk on the ground instead. For a long moment, I feel like a carefree kid, skipping from place to place, feeling light as a feather.

This power is part of me. It’s what has always drawn me to water, to the beach. This is half of who I am, and for twenty years, I didn’t know. Heaviness settles in my chest, but it’s not pain or anger, just a feeling of loss. That I could have enjoyed this for so long, but didn’t.

When the sun is high in the sky, setting the stream ablaze in hues of gold and red, I move a little faster, heading back to the cave for something to eat.

Moira smiles when she sees me. ‘Hey, you look at home.’

I hop from the last stone onto the ground, the hard-packed earth too solid and immovable beneath my feet. ‘Yeah,’ I say, my voice wistful. ‘You know, I think I like this place.’

Moira makes a face. ‘I would have preferred to stay at the hotel.’

‘I thought you were going to stay in a tent?’

‘Elijah got us a room.’ She tries to hide a smile.

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