The Kotahi Bay Quartet

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The Kotahi Bay Quartet Page 15

by J. C. Hart


  She stopped when she hit the floor of the ocean, finding her form again as she bound the man with seaweed. It took a minute for Jake to come back, his figure becoming more solid over time, the look on his face pure wonder.

  That was amazing. I can do that whenever I like? I'm a God!

  Moana let out a strangled chuckle and shook her head. Time for that later, lover. We have one small matter to deal with first.

  Jake looked at the man, whose skin was pale, his body shaking as his mouth moved, soundlessly muttering words.

  How long until he dies? Jake asked. Moana looked into his eyes, her stomach clenching at the lack of emotion there.

  She couldn’t think about it now. She just had to trust he’d still be Jake after.

  When I'm ready. And I'm not ready yet. We need information. Moana approached the man, directing her words at him. Speak. What is your name?

  He gasped when she released her hold on his voice, his words rushing out. "What are you going to do to me? You can't do this, you can't, take me back!"

  I asked for your name, Moana said. She moved closer still, using her magic to calm him. He was older than she'd initially thought, the frown lines on his forehead well etched.

  "Benjamin."

  "I am Moana, goddess of the sea, and you have committed crimes against us. You have willingly poisoned the ocean."

  "I was just doing a job." He shook his head, as if something was clearing in his mind, his eyes going wide in horror. "Oh god, I did, didn't I? I didn't even think of it like that. He made it seem like it was nothing..."

  He, who? Jake demanded.

  "I don't... I don't know his name. I don't remember. I swear. He had brown hair though, kind of plain looking. I'm so sorry. I love the sea. I go fishing all the time and I make sure never to drop anything, I don't... How could I do this?" He was still then, taking a deep breath, as though accepting things. He looked Moana straight in the eye. "Goddess, what can I do to atone?"

  What? Moana was shocked. She swam back a step, reeling from the sincerity of his words.

  "There must be something I can do to make up for the damage I did. I can't... I can't stand living with the knowledge that I was responsible."

  And if you have to die? Moana watched him carefully as he considered it.

  His expression flickered between sorrow and rage, back to sorrow and then peace fell on him as he met her gaze again. "I've got nothing to live for. If my death can make a difference, then I'm in."

  Moana looked to Jake, suddenly nervous. She'd wanted this to be done in rage. She wanted to hold onto her anger at what had been done but it diluted in the wake of Benjamin's acceptance, in the light of the truth.

  Jake moved behind her, his lips brushing against her cheek. He wants to be sacrificed.

  That's what worries me. What if this is a trap, what if it backfires? What if Jake couldn't live with this? What if she didn't want to?

  His blood is clean, isn't it? There was an eagerness in his voice that made her nervous, but he was right.

  She nodded. Resigned.

  I will take your life, Benjamin, and I will use your blood to help cleanse the sea. It can't undo all the damage but it can start the healing process. I don't need your consent... But I appreciate it.

  Benjamin swallowed hard, the only sign of his nerves. "I've never seen a goddess before, you know? I think it's a pretty good way to go out."

  It's time, she said. He nodded as she let his bindings fall away. She wanted to turn him away, but she knew she owed it to him to watch as the light left his eyes.

  Jake had his arms wrapped around her waist, leaving her free to do what was necessary, his presence a buzz against her flesh where their magics met and combined to become more than they ever were individually.

  She formed a single claw and locked her gaze to Benjamin's. I'm sorry. She drew it across his throat, the cut clean and swift, drawing him into her embrace as he twitched, the life leaving him, his blood swelling her magic, swelling her senses.

  Moana let him slip away and turned to Jake, his eyes were full of sorrow, the reality finally setting in. She kissed him, gently, lovingly, letting his magic bolster her, feeling the rush of pleasure, of gratitude, through her body and sending it out into the waves around them to cleanse the sea.

  It was a beginning. A very good beginning, and maybe with Jake's help, no one else would need to sacrifice for the sea.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When they came up for air, Jake was surprised to find that the Bay still looked the same. He was different now, and he'd expected to see it with new eyes.

  The eyes of a killer? He wasn't sure if it could even be called murder, seeing as Benjamin had offered his life, but he'd surprised himself with how eager he was to see it happen, eager to see the blood flow, to feel that connection with Moana, to purge some of the poison from the ocean.

  "Are you okay?" Moana asked. They were on the beach, heading to his house, now that he'd figured out how to make clothes for himself and remembered that the car was still in the middle of nowhere. They could go and get it later, and deal with the last of the petrol while they were at it. "I know this is all...new, and I might not be quite what I seemed."

  There was an edge of vulnerability in her voice and he caught her hand, making her turn to face him.

  "You never lied about who and what you are. Everything I saw today, I saw the first time we met." His lips pulled up in a grin. "And I'm still here."

  She laughed, soft and low. "You are. I just... I feel guilty, like I trapped you into this. You didn't choose it."

  "But if you'd asked me, I'd have said yes." He kissed her then, a soft kiss, one that held a promise. "Trust me. You've got nothing to feel bad about."

  "And what exactly are we going to tell your family?"

  "That you swept me off my feet and made an honest man out of me?" He quirked an eyebrow and she laughed.

  "We're a complete mess."

  "But we're a mess together." He said the words with certainty.

  "And we'll figure it all out eventually." She slipped her hand into his and pulled him down the beach.

  "Eventually." He paused, considering her. "I guess it's too much to hope you might be able to stay at my house some nights?"

  "We can make a bed in that cave if you want?"

  He grimaced and she laughed again.

  "I don't know why you think that's so funny. If you think cars have come a long way since you were last on land then you're going to be pleasantly surprised by modern beds."

  "What else will I be surprised by?"

  "Television, and movies! Oh my god, you're not going to have seen anything good. I can't wait to fix that. And games, I bet... Hang on. Have you ever seen a computer?"

  She thumped him on the arm. "No teasing about my age."

  "I don't even want to try and guess it, and we're not bringing that up with my family either. Melody is already going to freak out." He was trying to keep the conversation light, but he could see the bigger questions looming over them. And not just them but the whole Bay.

  They'd thwarted this particular plan to destroy one of the gods the Bay protected, but it wouldn't be the last, and now that Constance was gone and the barrier was fading it was only a matter of time before more trouble came to town.

  They needed Constance's granddaughter, and there was no telling what might happen if she didn't show up. And then there was Kyle, who could easily be the man Benjamin had described. Non-descript, seemingly well intentioned, had way of convincing people to do things they shouldn’t really do. If he was behind this…

  Jake didn’t want to think about it. Not yet.

  "I've just had a thought," he said, pulling Moana to a stop right where the grass started to take hold of the sand.

  "And?" She raised an eyebrow imperiously.

  "It's that we should go back to the sea, just for a bit. The others are probably still mourning and things are going to get messy, we should probably get to know each othe
r a little better, and take some time to recover before we're needed again..." He trailed off, seeing the passion in her eyes, and then she was off, sprinting down the sand, her clothes disappearing as she got closer to the waves. He bolted after her, the water warm, welcoming against his legs, and then he dove in.

  This time it was he who dragged her down, wrapping himself around her and devouring her with kisses.

  In the Spirit

  Chapter One

  Alyssa shut the front door and slid the bolt across. She leaned against the wood, keeping her limbs inside the frame so that no-one could see her through the windows to either side. All day she'd been swimming in a sea of other people and right now the only thing she wanted was some peace and quiet. And this house—her house—all to herself.

  She inhaled, exhaled, and then opened her eyes to scan the foyer. It was one of those big old villas, the kind she had always dreamed about owning one day. Well, truth be told, all she'd ever wanted was this specific house, but she'd never expected it to be hers.

  Unfortunately, it came at a cost. Her grandmother was dead now, and by some stroke of luck it was Alyssa she'd left the house to. Couldn't have come at a better or worse time—her asshole boyfriend had split after they found out she was infertile a few months ago, and she'd been treading water in a dead end job with no plans, no idea what came next. She'd actually been thinking about coming down here for a bit, but that hadn't been for the house.

  Alyssa had been craving Gran's particular brand of comfort.

  "I wish you were still here." She sighed. Grief waged with the simple pleasure of being there to the point where she wasn't sure she could really feel anything at all, not anything true and genuine, anyway. Eventually those feelings would resolve, she knew, but for right now she just wanted to think of the house and what her future might hold.

  Buttons, her gran's elderly cat, sashayed his way across the wooden floorboards and smooshed himself up against her legs. Alyssa absently bent down to pick the cat up, rubbing her face into his fur as she glanced into the lounge.

  How many times had she danced there in a circle with Gran? She could picture the path now, was sure there would a line traced in the floorboards beneath the old rug. How many poems had she learned while sitting in front of the fire? How many little charms and bags of goodies had they made together? All lost now.

  Grief won and she slipped to the floor, hugging the cat tightly to her chest. The house was empty and quiet without Gran, even Button's meows couldn't fill the space. How could she ever have thought this was what she wanted?

  A loud knock on the door jarred against her head and she squeaked. "Watch it!"

  "Hello, Miss Stewart? It's Derek, Derek McDermott. The lawyer." There was a quaver in his voice, as if even he wasn't sure he could call himself a lawyer.

  Alyssa stood up and straightened her funeral clothes, dragging her fingers through her strawberry blonde pixie cut before sliding back the bolt on the door. Of all the people to come knocking…

  "Derek. What can I do for you?" she asked in her most composed voice.

  "I just wanted to see you, alone." He looked nervously out to the driveway, but there were no other cars there.

  "Alone? I'm not really—"

  "This won't take long." He put up a hand to stop her. "Your grandmother left something for your eyes only, and I didn't feel it wise to give it to you in front of the rest of your family. They were rather more…"

  "Obnoxious? Pushy? Aggressive? Assh—"

  "Yes." He cut her off. "All of those things. Your grandmother was a well-loved member of the town, so it was surprising to find so many of her family were just..."

  "Rude. You don't have to tell me about it. I'm one of them, remember? Have had to deal with it my entire life."

  "Right, well. Sorry about that. Look, take this. Under instructions from Constance, I haven't watched it. It was a private message just for you. Take a look, when you're ready." He handed her a slim DVD case and then stepped away and was in his car before she even had a chance to say thank you.

  Weird. Very weird.

  What was weirdest though was thinking that her elderly grandmother had made a video. Alyssa had to laugh at that thought; though she wasn't ready to see Gran again yet, not after burying her earlier today.

  She carried the case with her as she moved through the house, trailing her hand along the wall as she went. The paper was lumpy and worn, flaking in sections. She just knew that buried beneath layers of wallpaper she'd find newsprint plastered to the wood, telling stories of years long gone. To her, that was part of the beauty of old houses like these; all the secrets you could find.

  And they were all hers now, every single one of them. A shiver ran down her spine—anticipation, excitement? Perhaps a bit of both.

  She headed for the kitchen at the back of the house, so familiar and yet foreign at the same time. It had been ten years or more since she'd been in the house with Gran and yet standing there in the doorway she could picture the elderly woman perfectly, moving to the kettle and flicking it on while grabbing two mugs off the stand. She made the best hot chocolate. The best.

  Alyssa dumped the DVD case on the table and followed those imaginary footsteps, filling the jug from the tap before switching it on, watching the steam fog up the window as it boiled. Standing here, like this, she could easily pretend that Gran was still with her. Maybe in the lounge, waiting for Alyssa to bring her a cup of tea.

  Something moved out on the lawn between the bush and the grass, catching her eye. What the hell? It was pale skinned and clothed in white, like a ghost from some badly filmed horror movie and it was coming right toward the back step of the house. Alyssa froze, unable to move from her position by the window. The figure was out of sight now, but she couldn't hear a knock on the door, so whoever it was, they weren't planning on making a house call. At least, not one that followed common niceties.

  "What the hell?" She grabbed a knife from the block on the bench and moved toward the back door. Her fingers hovered above the handle, but she couldn't make herself open it. Did she really want to face whatever was out there? Could her grandmother have come back so soon to haunt the house? Shit.

  Inhaling deeply, Alyssa swung the door open but there was no-one there. No-one, but not nothing. A bouquet of dead flowers sat on the porch, propped against the step into the house. She glanced up to see the pale form slipping through the trees at the end of the property and into the bush-land the house backed onto.

  "Wait! Come back!"

  It didn't stop though. Hell, she didn't even know if it was a man or a woman. Or a ghost.

  No, it wasn't a ghost. If her grandmother were to return, it wouldn't be to sneak around the outside of the house—she'd be making a racket inside, taking up residence in her kitchen, rocking in her chair. That kind of thing. Whoever had just made this delivery was human, of that she was sure.

  Alyssa scooped up the bouquet and turned it over in her hands, a few petals fell away and a thorn from a rose stem pricked her finger. She sucked absently at the blood as she tried to decide what to do with this strange gift. Toss it into the garden? Actually, maybe she would just leave it by the door in case the person decided to come back and get it. One thing was sure, she didn't want it inside.

  Alyssa leaned it against the step again and went back into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. She'd just reached for a mug when the doorbell sounded.

  "For the love of God." She shook her head and ran through the house, just in case this person decided not to stick around either. She hauled the door open then pulled up short when she saw a kindly old lady on the veranda.

  "Connie's grand-daughter!"

  "Um. Yes…" Alyssa glanced up and down the street, but this woman was the only person around. No white figures shifting in the shadows.

  "And you're going to be taking over things here?" The woman inclined her head toward the house and then pushed through the door—not roughly, but as if she was a regular guest.


  Perhaps she was.

  "I'm going to be living here, yeah. I don't really know…"

  The woman rounded on her and smiled knowingly. "It's okay, dear. No-one is going to judge you here. You'll fit right in." She gave Alyssa a consoling pat on the arm and then her mouth dropped open. "Goodness me, I completely forgot to introduce myself! My name is Angela, but Connie called me Angie. You can too if you want. Should we have some tea?" Angie headed for the kitchen but Alyssa stepped after her and placed a hand on her shoulder. The older woman turned around.

  "Look, Angela—Angie. I don't want to be rude, but it's been a really long day and I'd kind of just like to unwind. You know. Alone?" Her shoulders sagged a bit as she exhaled.

  "Oh dear, I understand." Angie patted Alyssa's hand. "I'll come back again in a few days when you've had a chance to settle in, and if you need me before then I'm just three houses down the road. Okay?"

  "Thank you," Alyssa said, relieved that she hadn't had to manhandle the woman out the door. "It was nice to meet you, Angie."

  "Nice to see you too, Alyssa."

  "How did you know my name?"

  "You're the talk of the town at the moment, dear! Not to mention that we've met before, but it was so long ago that you probably don't remember." Angie tapped her nose.

  "I don't. Sorry."

  "No need to be. We'll be reacquainted in no time." Angie gave her a wink and then headed for the door, closing it behind her.

  "Today just never ends…" Alyssa crossed to the door and locked it, then did the same to the back entrance before heading upstairs to Gran's bedroom. She didn't care about tea anymore, didn't care about much of anything but closing her eyes and sleeping.

  Chapter Two

  A chill permeated the house, creeping under the blanket to wake her. Alyssa sat up, unnerved by the darkness that had come on while she napped. Even the streetlights couldn't disperse the shadows in this room.

 

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