Mystic Tides

by Kate Allenton

  A smile hovered on her lips when she thought of her boys. They were, like she said, a bit dense, but they were sweet, wonderful little boys.

  “Now about this woman today. Tell me about—”

  “I want her.”

  “Ohhhh… it’s like that, is it?” Janine pressed her lips together and gave him a speculative look. “You’ve got it pretty bad, brother.”

  “She tried to push me.”

  “Interesting girl. Pretty?”

  “Oh yeah…”

  “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Let me at least get her interested first.”

  “Maybe I’ll just stop by the shop and—”

  “Janine! Stay out of it. This is my life.”

  “She’s our client.”

  “But she’s going to be my wife.”

  Janine’s mouth dropped open the same moment as Nick’s.

  “Holy crap,” Janine blurted out. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

  “I-I don’t know.” Sweat dotted Nick’s brow. He swiped at it with his sleeve as his heart beat double-time in his chest. He rubbed a hand over his shirt to calm it down, but nothing worked. It just kept beating hard enough to lead a marching band, but the hard beat didn’t hurt the way it did when he thought of Nat. “Did I really just say that?”

  “You really did,” Janine whispered.

  Nick looked at the burger and onion rings the server slid across the table and felt like puking. “Holy crap is right.” He glanced up at Janine, suddenly feeling a bit shy and stupid, like a kid with a crush, but a spark of hope flared in his chest when he thought of the beautiful blond. “But Sydney Spencer… has a nice ring, don’t you think?”

  “I think you’re crazy.” Janine shook her head as she grabbed an onion ring. “But on you, crazy looks pretty good.”

  Chapter 3

  Tuesday Afternoon

  Nick was almost out the office door when the phone jangled on his sister’s desk. He paused as it rang again and glanced at Janine. “You gonna get that?”

  “Get what?” she asked innocently, her eyes locked on the screen of her Mac, her hands flying over the keyboard.

  He continued to stare at her as the phone ran three more times, and she continued to pointedly ignore both him and the ringing.

  He almost asked how she could do that when the reason for her sudden deafness finally hit him. It was her form of protest. She’d been trying to get him to hire an office assistant for two weeks. “Oh, I get it.”

  “There’s nothing to get,” she said.

  “Seriously, Janine? We’re stooping to childish behavior now?”

  So innocent, his sister. She certainly sounded that way, but she was a piece of work. She knew how to wear him down. Making him listen to that phone was definitely one way to get her assistant because the shrill ring was doing something to his brain. He felt it leaking out his ears.

  Janine peeked at him through her streaked bangs, but she didn’t say a word. That smirk, however, told him her thoughts, and it also told him she really wasn’t going to get the phone. He heaved a sigh when Janine pressed her lips together.

  “Oh for crying out loud.” He stomped across the room and reached for the phone on her desk. Just as his hand curled around the handset, the noise cut off in mid-ring.

  “That could have been a new client,” he snarled.

  “They’ll call back,” Janine said. “They always do.”

  “They always… How often does this happen?”

  “Oh probably more often than you’d want to think.”

  He pressed a finger in the center of his forehead where a dull ache had begun to throb. He made a mental note to call an employment agency later in the day, but first he had to meet a client about—

  His cell phone vibrated in his jeans pocket. He fished it out and glanced at the screen.

  Nick raked the hair back from his forehead as a terrible feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. “It’s the school.”

  “Well, answer it, dummy.”

  “But this can’t be good. It’s only the first day.”

  “We probably forgot to send a form back,” Janine said easily.

  “Yeah, maybe…” Reluctantly, he swiped his finger over the screen. “Nick Spencer.”

  “Hello, Mr. Spencer. This is Tabby Whitlock at Blansett Elementary.”

  He racked his brain. Tabby Whitlock… He and Janine had met a couple people when they enrolled Tawny in school. Principal, school nurse? Oh, man, maybe she was the security officer? That wouldn’t be good at all. Then he remembered Tabby was an office aide, a cute, perky woman with the ability to read minds, a talent that came in handy when dealing with young witches and warlocks who could get into trouble as easily as breathing. He’d felt her magic shimmering around her like cotton candy, innocent and sweet, definitely a good personality fit for the school. She’d talked a mile a minute, her personality bubbling through her voice like a tumbling brook.

  Just an office aide. He breathed a sigh of relief. Janine had been right. It was a missing form after all. But his relief vanished with Tabby’s next words.

  “We’d like you or Ms. Delaney to come down to the school if you can. We have a tiny situation here.”

  He could barely squeeze out the words. “A tiny situation. How tiny?”

  Janine’s eyes flickered up to meet his for a split second. She went back to typing, but he knew she was listening. Any situation with Tawny was never good, and they were never tiny.

  “I think it would be best if you come down and speak with Tawny’s teacher. Is that possible, Mr. Spencer?”

  He glanced at his watch. One in the afternoon on the first day of school. Only four freaking hours. A new personal best for Tawny in creating a tiny situation. Chaos was probably more like it.

  “One of us will be there, Tabby.”

  “Thank you. See you soon.”

  Tabby clicked off, and Nick slipped his phone back into his pocket, turning to his sister.

  “I’m busy,” Janine said, her voice clipped.

  “I can’t deal with her teacher. You know I’m not good at this stuff.”

  “Tabby called your cell phone, not mine.”

  Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. The headache was migrating, and soon it would engulf his entire head. When that happened, his head would simply explode. He reined in his temper, forcing himself to keep his voice below a hair-raising decibel. “She called my cell because you didn’t answer the office phone.”

  She tilted her head and gave him that patented Janine look, a combination of innocence and confusion. Then she smiled sweetly. “I didn’t answer the office phone because I’m trying to get the estimate done for your girlfriend.”

  “Ah ha! You did hear— Hey, she’s not my girlfriend.”

  Janine wagged her head back and forth. “Could have fooled me.”

  “You are a pain in my ass.”

  “Back at ya.”

  He slammed his hand in his pocket and yanked out the keys to his truck. “Damn it, Janine, you’re going to owe me for this.”

  She laughed. “You can add it to my bill.”

  “Call Phil Jackson and reschedule.”

  “Will do,” she said, picking up the phone. When he gawked at her for actually listening to him, she laughed and waved her hand. “Get out of here before Tawny leads the kids down the street like the Piped Piper. You know she’ll do it.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Memories of Salem pinpricked over his skin and down his spine like the sound of twenty-five children marching happily down a street. The blinding sunshine stabbed his brain when he tugged open the door and walked into the September afternoon.

  “Same shit, different day,” he muttered. He glanced around. “Make that same shit, different place.”

  As he drove through down, he glanced up and down each side street, Janine’s words ringing in his head. He was happy—and grateful—when he didn’t see a parade of children da
ncing toward him.

  He pulled into the school parking lot, his gaze still shooting left and right, looking for wayward children. The sidewalk leading to the front door was empty, and the woods that lay behind the school brooded dark and empty, the sunshine reaching only several feet down the path. There was a classroom of young children on the playground, being watched over by two women, but each student seemed to be jumping, sliding, and swinging under their own steam. He didn’t see Tawny in the group, so that boded well. So far, Tawny’s push range was really only about twenty feet and had to be unimpeded by any structures like windows or walls. He knew that would change as she grew. Janine’s range had exceeded the length of a football field since high school.

  The school was eclectic, as were so many buildings in the town. It had once been a two-story foursquare brick schoolhouse. The style told him it had probably been built in the early years of the twentieth century, and the architect in him had been entranced by the historical vibe and sound structure of both the brick and the woodwork inside when he’d been given a tour. The original building had been enough room for the town of Blansett for many years, but quite a few additions had been built in the last several decades, sprawling over the property the way the homes and businesses had sprawled along the coastline and overly newly created streets. Now the original structure housed the school offices on the first floor and an extensive library for young children on the second. The classrooms meandered in several directions along the western side, and the modern kitchen, cafeteria, and gym were tacked on to the eastern side.

  Tabby was waiting for him when he walked through the front door, her tiny body bristling with barely controlled energy.

  “This way, Mr. Spencer.”

  “Can’t you just tell me—”

  “That’s best left to Tawny’s teacher, Mr. Spencer. I’m just an aide.”

  She gave him a bright smile, and before he could say anything else, Tabby practically skipped off down the hallway. He had no choice but to follow, the little aide talking a mile a minute.

  “Tawny’s such a wonderful little girl, filled with spirit, and such a joy to have around the school. She’s so cute and adorable, but I really have to ask.” She spun around, bouncing on her feet as she walked backward a few steps. “Any pixie blood in her?”

  “Uh… not that I know of.”

  “Just a guess,” Tabby said with another radiant smile. “We get this sort of behavior from the pixie breeds.”

  The words had just popped out of her without guile, without a hidden agenda of any kind. He wasn’t used to such forthright statements, not even in Salem, but even worse than her pointblank question were the words she’d chosen to associate with Tawny. He drew back for a moment as her words sank in. Pixie blood? That couldn’t be good. There was a hidden “but” in her glowing assessment of Tawny, and if any breed had “buts” attached to their outgoing personalities, it was the pixies. Cute, yes. Effervescent, yes. But strong-willed and stubborn were the two words most often associated with the pixies.

  A million other questions crossed his mind, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise, and his anxiety levels spiked with each step he took. He finally tuned her out as best he could because she had no intention of giving him any real information.

  The sounds of singing came from the first classroom they passed. Nick looked in to see a group of very happy children singing that song about bus wheels. He’d tried to learn the words several times, but he was hopeless. As they passed a second door, he heard a child reading aloud from a story Janine had read to the kids many times. He smiled as he thought of Janine curled on the sofa, Tawny on one side and the boys on the other. For all that she was a pain in his ass, Janine was probably the world’s best mother, and he couldn’t have asked for a better person to help with Tawny.

  As they approached the third classroom, Nick heard nothing but silence until he reached the small alcove that held the open door. Then he heard the murmur of a soft voice and some answering grumbles. When he heard that soft voice, a sudden heat enveloped his body, making him twist uncomfortably against the thoughts that had no place in the elementary school.

  “Here we are. Tawny is in Ms.—”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Sydney Janzen. Despite the lack of attitude and haughty superiority he’d come to expect in her tone, he’d recognize that voice anywhere. He gave Tabby a nod, and the woman turned and practically glided back up the hall, disappearing around the corner, leaving a wash of sunshine in her wake. He wondered if there was some fairy in her background, maybe even some pixie. But he wasn’t here to contemplate Tabby Whitlock’s heritage. He was here to deal with his recalcitrant niece, and the wonderful surprise of finding out the identity of her very intriguing teacher.

  He glanced in the doorway. His niece slouched in a pint-sized desk at the head of the class, her hands clenched in front of her, her deep blue eyes focused on something outside the window. Her fifty-yard stare. Nick had seen a lot of that when Tawny didn’t get her own way. It was a look that would break a regular man, but where his niece was concerned, Nick wasn’t a regular man. The brown curls Janine had so patiently tamed that morning now tossed wildly around Tawny’s face and over her shoulders, lifting as though brushed by a gentle breeze. The curls were generally an indication of Tawny’s mood. Wild, unruly, untamed… yeah, that seemed about right in this situation.

  Sydney sat opposite her, her tall, slender body folded into a small chair, leaning forward and trying to capture Tawny’s attention. He could have told her it was a losing battle. When Tawny put up her wall, it was made of brick, and no one, man or woman, could tear it asunder.

  This was a different Sydney from the one he’d met on Saturday. Her shining blond hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and her lovely face almost devoid of makeup except for a bit of mascara and some pink gloss on her lips. Instead of the haute couture jumpsuit and four-inch heels she’d been wearing at her magic shop, today she wore a simple black skirt, white button-down shirt, and ballet flats.

  Yeah, his new girl might have an attitude, but not with her kids. His heart melted a bit at the sight of such a beautiful, elegant woman looking so… ordinary and approachable.

  “I understand, Tawny, I really do, but that’s not how we behave in school.”

  “It’s how I behave,” his niece said, her tone both belligerent and petulant.

  “Not on my watch it isn’t,” he said.

  Tawny’s mouth dropped open, and Sydney froze only a second before twisting her face toward the door. Her eyes widened as she rose from the small perch. She tugged on her skirt.

  “Nick… I mean Mr. Spencer, what are you doing here?”

  “Y-yeah,” Tawny sputtered, straightening in her chair. “What are you doing here? Where’s Aunt Janine?”

  For a moment, he let his gaze caress the woman in front of him. She fingered the top button on her shirt, and he saw a blush skim her face before she recovered and put on her teacher face.

  “Aunt Janine is busy,” he said, his gaze going back to Tawny, “so you got me.”

  “Crap,” Tawny muttered.

  “Crap is right. A whole truckload of it.” Nick sauntered into the room and held out his hand. “We meet again, Ms. Janzen.”

  She gripped his hand and gave him a firm handshake, despite looking a bit flustered. Her other hand went up to toy with her ponytail. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, and one for a moment, he saw a flicker of something like disappointment cross her expression. He felt his own disappointment when he saw it. Maybe she wasn’t glad to see him. That would suck.

  “I have to apologize.” She gave a little laugh. “I never expected to be meeting parents on the first day of school, so I haven’t gone through the files yet.” She heaved a huge sigh. “Since she’s a Riggs, and you’re a Spencer, are you Tawny’s stepfather?”

  He squeezed her hand and then released it. He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets so he wouldn’t reach for her again.


  “No, I’m Tawny’s uncle.”

  “Oh!” Sydney said, that blush rising up her neck to blossom in her cheeks. “Well, that’s… great.” The last word came out with a smile. He took that as a very good sign.

  He glanced at Tawny, who was quietly trying to disappear into an imaginary hole, as she was sliding farther and farther down in her seat. In another moment, she would hit the floor. “This afternoon, though, I’m Tawny’s worst nightmare.”

  Tawny bolted up in her seat. “She tried to push me, Uncle Nick!”

  She opened her mouth to say something else, but Nick held up his hand, staring Tawny down. “And just who pushed first?”

  Tawny’s mouth snapped closed. “I did.” She pushed her bottom lip out in an angry pout. “But it’s just not fair. I just wanted to have some fun.”

  Nick lifted a brow and turned to Sydney. “Just what kind of fun are we talking about here?”

  “A walk in the woods,” Sydney said. “When recess ended, she apparently didn’t want to come back to class.”

  “I just wanted to see what’s in the woods,” Tawny mumbled.

  “And take the class with you?”

  Tawny looked up at the ceiling and put her hands over her ears.

  Nick drew in a deep breath. “Seriously, Tawny?”

  Tawny stuck out her tongue. “La la la la la,” she sing-songed.

  Sydney wrapped her warm hand around his bicep and steered him away from Tawny. Her touch almost made him forget the reason for his visit, but a quick glance over his shoulder reminded him. His niece had gone back to staring out the window, her arms folded over her chest, her little body slouched as far as it could be without sliding off the chair. He felt her push thumping through the room, battering against his skin like water droplets and knocking against the furniture. Some of it rocked, and some of it bounced once and then slammed back to the floor. He almost laughed at the concentration she was pouring into her magic. They’d been through this dozens of times now, and in the spirit of true insanity, each time, she expected a different result. Tawny, however, hadn’t even a passing acquaintance with insanity. She was just a hurt little girl wrapped in a bundle of pure stubbornness.