“I did try to avoid it,” he said, and rested his hand on one of hers. “It’s difficult, though. For months before I met you I felt… well… I experienced feelings for you. Before we met. I thought that if I could avoid getting involved I might avert the vision itself.”
“Why didn’t you, then?” Bailey asked. Despite herself, she drew her hand away from his and folded her arms tightly over her chest. “If it really could change something, I mean, then shouldn’t we call this off?”
Aiden’s face smoothed. “Probably, it would be the prudent thing to do.”
Bailey’s heart ached. It was hard to look at him.
“Do you want to?” She asked. “Call it off, I mean?”
He sighed heavily, and leaned toward her to rest his hand on her knee. “No, Bailey,” he said, “I don’t.”
She relaxed, but only a little. “What else did you see?”
“I haven’t been able to record many details,” he said. He took his hand away, and collected their plates. Neither of them were particularly hungry now anyway. “I suppose… I could show you my journal entry. Perhaps you’ll recognize something I don’t.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this before?” She asked. “And why are you telling me now?”
Aiden scraped the remaining food into the sink and switched on the garbage disposal, running water into it as he did and perhaps vying for extra time before he answered. After the disposal ate the refuse, he turned the water off and let it grind a moment longer before he switched it off. “I’ve been struggling how to suggest that you and I were somehow fated to be together,” he said. He turned and leaned against the sink, his smile almost sad. “Would you have appreciated it at the time?”
“I don’t know,” Bailey said honestly. “I guess there’s no way to know. But, now that we’re together, what—you think I can handle it?”
He sensed the tinge of offense in her voice and raised his hands in peace. “Not at all. But now that more of my vision is coming true I think that we should both be prepared. What’s more… I believe we should work with greater focus to prepare for what I believe will inevitably come next.”
“And here I just wanted to enjoy a pleasant weekend together,” Bailey sighed.
Aiden came to her, and kissed her on the forehead, and held her hands in his. She looked up at him, uncertain now about whether they had any future worth working for. Maybe what was to come was simply what had to happen. Maybe it was simply time. Nothing could last forever, could it?
“I promise,” Aiden said, “I will never admit defeat. There is a reason I’ve had these visions, and it isn’t to make peace with the future.”
She tried to smile, and when he kissed her it was a little easier.
“Now come on,” he said when they parted, “let’s go work on changing the future, shall we? I intend to win us as many relaxing weekends as I can.”
She agreed, and they showered and dressed to go out into the world, away from the warm comfort of the beach house.
But if she was being honest about it, she was more worried than she would ever admit to Aiden.
Fighting Faery was one thing, insurmountable as it seemed—but fighting fate? That was altogether a different kind of fight.
Chapter 2
Bailey and Aiden drove into town—walking from the beach house was a tall order—and parked by the library. In the park nearby, a handful of people were gathered, dancing and laughing. It was a recent tradition, and one that Bailey hadn’t been all that interested in joining, but lately it happened fairly often. She paused in front of the library and watched for a moment before going in.
“It does look like fun, doesn’t it?” Aiden joked as they entered.
She snorted. “You haven’t seen me dance before.”
“I’m sure Mr. Dove could help with that,” he suggested.
“Maybe,” Bailey said. Mr. Dove could help with just about anything, it was true. Still, something about him had always made Bailey just a little bit nervous. She didn’t often see him unless it was important, like when Martha Tells had been killed; and later, when Professor Turner had as well. Going to him just to learn to dance seemed like it might be a bit too personal to approach him about.
“Hi, Dad,” Bailey said when she found Ryan in one of the microfiche rooms picking through old newspaper pages. “What are you looking at?”
Ryan blinked the light of the screen out of his eyes. “Oh, nothing terribly important. Just a curiosity. History of the town.”
“Where’s Avery?” She asked.
Aiden peeked into the room from behind her. “Ah, Mr. Robinson,” he said. “A pleasure to see you, sir.”
Ryan’s eyes shifted from Bailey to Aiden and back. “Good morning to both of you. Avery is with Miss Rogers. I believe she’s working on his hands. You arrived together, the two of you?”
“It was… a late night,” Bailey said. “With the coven ladies, you know. We haven’t really slept much.”
“Ah, I see.” Ryan nodded slowly, and gave them a gentle smile. “Well, perhaps you just missed Avery, then.”
“We must have,” Bailey said. “Are you okay here? Do you need help with anything?”
Ryan chuckled, and shook his head. “I suspect you have more important work than shelving books at the moment. Go on, both of you. I’m managing just fine.”
Bailey kissed him on the forehead before she left him. Aiden shook his hand. The two exchanged something quietly that Bailey couldn’t quite make out. As Aiden walked past her, Ryan watched her for a moment, and then turned back to his screen.
Outside, she nudged Aiden in the side. “What was that about?”
Aiden cleared his throat, and waved a hand to dismiss her concern. “Nothing serious,” he said.
“Nothing serious,” Bailey repeated, narrowing her eyes. “What did he say?”
“The sort of thing fathers say to young men who frequently share company with their daughters,” Aiden said. He glanced at her and smiled. “He merely asked if you were happy of late.”
“And you said…?”
“I told him that we’re doing the best we can under the circumstances.” He took her hand and held it.
The contact was nice, but her nerves drove her to let his hand go after just a few steps. “So, do you think he knows about us?”
Aiden sighed. “If he does, I don’t believe he disapproves.”
“I should explain it to him,” Bailey said. “If he lets something slip around the coven…”
“I suspect your father is the very picture of discretion.”
Bailey smoothed a grimace. “I didn’t mean—”
“You did,” he said. “It’s alright, Bailey. I don’t disagree with you. We should be cautious about the details of our personal lives. The chances that we can keep our relationship a secret for very long, however, are quite small.”
“I know,” Bailey groaned. “And I wish we didn’t have to. But… after what happened between Chloe and my father, and the whole… everything; they wouldn’t understand.”
“Neither would my peers and superiors,” Aiden said.
The two of them were quiet for most of the rest of the walk to the bakery. When they arrived, Aiden stopped Bailey just before they left the sidewalk. “If you change your mind about us,” he said stiffly, “I’ll understand. I want you to know that.”
With a shake of her head, Bailey turned away from him. “You’re not getting off that easy, Mr. Rivers.” She smiled as she heard him shuffle after her.
“Ah, Bailey,” Francis said when Bailey entered, quickly followed by Aiden. “What are you smiling about?”
“Saw the daily dance at the park,” Bailey said. “Always puts me in a good mood. Oh, Mr. Dove!”
He looked up from his paper and coffee in the corner, and waved his mug at her, his eyes sparkling with that constant glint of mischief. Like he’d just heard a joke. “Good Morning, Miss Robinson. You’re looking as beautiful as ever. Mr. Rivers, always a ple
asure.”
“Morning Mr. Dove,” Aiden said. He gave a small wave, and glanced around the front of the bakery. “Is Avery with Miss Rogers?”
Francis nodded. “They’ll be down soon enough. He’ll need to eat.”
Aria had the greatest skill with healing magic, though Rita and Anita likely could have accomplished it much faster. Those two refused to treat a wizard, though.
“I haven’t seen him in some time,” Mr. Dove said. “How is he progressing?”
Francis glanced up at the attic, where the coven’s sanctuary and workroom was housed. “Aria knows her work. He’ll be wiggling his fingers and doing nonsense wizard magic again soon enough.”
Bailey held her tongue, and gave Aiden an apologetic smile.
“Coffee?” Francis asked.
“Please,” Bailey said. “Thank you.”
A few moments later they were seated at one of the corner tables with their mugs, a respectable distance apart. Mr. Dove finished his coffee and folded his paper before he bid everyone there a pleasant day and left them. As he did, he winked at Bailey.
There was a niggling itch, somewhere in Bailey’s mind. Through the window, she watched Mr. Dove cross the street, waving and smiling to everyone he saw on the way there. He disappeared through the frosted glass door to the antique shop. The moment he was out of sight, the sensation went away, and she turned her attention back to her coffee.
Francis milled about the bakery behind the counter, loading fresh muffins and scones into the display case. Once in awhile she glanced over at them.
The silence began to grow awkward.
Soon enough, Avery descended from the workroom. He looked worn out, but the bandages were off his hands. He spotted Bailey and Aiden, and made his way to them. Francis followed behind with a fresh cup of coffee and a plate with a muffin and a sandwich. When Avery sat, she laid the meal in front of him, and he accepted it gratefully.
Bailey smiled after Francis when she left. She was an ornery sort, and was unapologetic about it—but since Avery had brought Bailey and Aiden back from Faery, after single handedly fending off Thomas Hope, she seemed to have taken a liking to Avery. Of course, suggesting to her that this was so was entirely out of the question.
“How’s our local prodigy?” Bailey asked.
Avery snorted, and waved his pink fingers before he curled them about halfway into a fist. “Getting there. Aria thinks that if we go slowly, I’ll have full use of them in another week or so. It’s impressive, the work she’s doing. I don’t understand it at all, but it does work.” He picked at his muffin, initially, but after the first taste he practically devoured it. Between bites he managed to ask, “How come we don’t have healing magic?”
Aiden pursed his lips. “Hypothetically, we could. The calculations would be overwhelming, though. Organic systems tend to be highly susceptible to progressive entropy.”
Though Avery nodded some understanding, Bailey only blinked. Math. As far as she could tell, wizardry was a great deal like calculus; but with more dimensions—whatever that meant.
“I am starving,” Avery muttered, all talk of math—or anything besides food—flying out the window.
The way Chloe explained it, healing magic only served to encourage the natural healing process, relying on the body’s own memory of wholeness. Putting too much energy into a delicate system like that was risky. Instead, the body’s own energy stores were drawn on.
During the ordeal with the faeries and their attempt to use Thomas to get around the seal on the caves, Avery had improvised magic with his own fingers, rather than employing a wand. As Aiden told it, crafting a wand was advanced work that he hadn’t believed Avery was ready to undertake. He didn’t think that now. And there was a good reason wizards use wands.
Handling the kind of magic they wielded was dangerous without a sort of funnel through which to tame and direct those forces. When Avery had done so, each of his fingers had been badly burned—not just on the surface, but inside, along the nerves and bones. Within hours, he’d been unable to bend them at all, and soon the blisters had hardened into tough, thick skin that began to crack.
It was an ordeal, and it had earned him the respect of the coven, greater appreciation from Bailey, and the assurance from Aiden that once his fingers were healed he would be crafting a wand. Mostly so that he never had a reason to pull something that irresponsible again.
He glanced up at her from his sandwich. “Heard from Piper?”
Bailey squirmed. “Not for over a week.”
Avery sighed, and chewed thoughtfully. Eventually he sighed. “She got spooked. We should get together soon. Sans all talk about magic. Mr. Dove is having a little community picnic in a couple of days, weather permitting which—” he tilted his head toward Frances, “—I expect it will.”
“She doesn’t normally come to those things,” Bailey said. “Last time she did, Riley threw a fit.”
“Perhaps she’s just spending time with young William,” Aiden suggested. “And hasn’t Gavin taken off some time as well?”
“That ended a couple days ago,” Avery said. “It was only a couple weeks leave.”
“Then again,” Bailey said, “if she’s keeping her distance… can we blame her?”
“Surely that’s not it.” Aiden looked from one of them to the other.
Avery shrugged, and Bailey had to admit she wasn’t sure. “It hit close to home, all of this. She was terrified for Riley.”
“Well,” Aiden said, “I can understand that but his proximity to you wasn’t the reason he was affected. She must know that.”
“No,” Avery sighed. “She mustn’t. How could she? We’ve been wrapped up in this business since Martha Tells died. I don’t believe it’s a coincidence. Why would she?”
Bailey found herself watching someone walk into Mr. Dove’s shop. “We should go see her soon,” she said. She looked at Avery. “We could get Riley something from Mr. Dove’s shop. The last time I was there I saw an antique rocking horse. I think there’s an old crib in there, too, that I bet she’d love. The old bassinet style one? Peace offerings.”
“I doubt Piper is terribly susceptible to bribery,” Avery mused, “but… I haven’t gotten baby William anything. I’ll call her. Unless you want to.”
“She would probably rather hear from you,” Bailey said. “After all, you’re the one that made Riley better.”
“That was a group effort,” Avery pointed out.
“A group that included one of her best friends,” Bailey countered.
But the truth was, she was nervous about reaching out to Piper. Ever since this started, their relationship had been strained. It came and went, of course, just like their other ups and downs since they were in high school. This time felt different, though. This time, Piper was afraid for her children. She wasn’t afraid of Bailey, of course—Bailey knew that. But she was afraid of magic. And that felt like it was very close to being the same thing.
Maybe Avery felt the same way. It wasn’t fair to ask him to make the effort. Bailey groaned, and finished her coffee. “I don’t know. Maybe we should both call. Or just drop by with gifts. Would she freak out, you think?”
“Piper?” Avery shook his head, frowning. “No. She’s probably trying to figure out how to bridge the gap herself.”
Bailey nodded, and looked at Aiden. “Well… maybe I’ll take off work early? It’s not like we have much to do other than the books.”
“That,” Aiden said blithely, “and coming up with a plan of action to stymie the current trend of Faerie related incursions.”
She glowered at him. “I know that.”
“I’ll be along later,” Avery said, “once I’ve recovered a little bit. We can work something out then. Piper needs her friends.”
Aiden sighed softly, and spread his hands. “Of course. Let me know what you intend, and the time you need is yours. That said—shall we go, and see what work we can accomplish until then?”
Bailey kissed A
very on the cheek, and said her goodbyes to the the coven ladies. Chloe gave Aiden a long look as Bailey hugged her mother, but didn’t comment. Did she know? If she did, Bailey felt certain she would sense it herself. Then again, at some point she would have to.
The drive to the office was short and quiet. Bailey watched the town drift by through the passenger side window. She was tense, she realized. And why not? Lately, something terrible happened with startling frequency. It was only a matter of time before—
“Oh, dear,” Aiden said, in that tone that made Bailey close her eyes tightly before she was ready to face whatever had caused him to say it.
They pulled into the parking lot of of the Tour Office. There was only one car in the parking lot, but it was a deputy’s car. The others were down the wide path to the caves, their lights flashing.
Bailey sucked in a long breath and then sighed it out. “Well,” she said, “that was faster than I expected.”
“So much for a quiet day at work,” Aiden muttered. “Shall we?”
She nodded, and they parked before getting out to descend the path and find out what fresh disaster was happening this time.
Chapter 3
Seamus met them well before they reached the scene. “Bailey, Mr. Rivers,” he said, one hand held up. “I’m afraid this is a crime scene. I’ll have to ask you to head on back up to the office.”
Bailey looked past him, and spotted who she thought was Delbert Finn. “Is that Delbert?” She asked. She looked back at Seamus. “Is he okay? What happened?”
The deputy grimaced, and took a step sideways to block her view. “Bailey, this is a pretty cut and dry case, I don’t think you need to—”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t need to what, Seamus Jackson?”
“Bailey,” Aiden said softly, and pointed.
She leaned a little to one side and looked in time to see Delbert being led away in handcuffs. As she followed the march to the Sheriff’s car, she saw something even worse—a particularly telling blue bag on a stretcher, EMTs wearing white gloves just zipping it up.
Witching Your Life Away: A Cozy Mystery (The Witchy Women of Coven Grove Book 5) Page 2
