Water & Flame (Witches of the Elements Series Book 1)

by Alejandra Vega

  Nearly five hours later, she pulled up into the circular driveway of her family home. There was no one outside to greet her this time. It was just as well. Maybe she could make it to her room without having to talk to anyone. It suited her mood.

  The house was quiet as she ghosted her way through the hall toward her room. The photographs and paintings of her family lined the walls and seemed to cast accusations at her. She had given up her mission only to find out she had been duped. Was Ben part of Margaret’s schemes or was he just selfish in using her to escape the marriage that had been set as his prison? She looked straight ahead so she didn’t meet those accusing looks.

  Reaching her room, she closed the door and threw herself onto the bed. Maybe sleeping would help. A month or two of slumber might do it. She took the little angel carving from her nightstand and squeezed it in her hand. In a few minutes, she was asleep.

  A gentle knock at the door made her start. She looked around, disoriented at first, and determined that it was still daytime. Beams of light slid in between the window’s shutters.

  “Come in,” she said to the door as the knock repeated.

  Her father opened the door slowly and entered the room. He looked tired, worn. She was sure she looked worse. He walked slowly to the chair next to her bed and sat.

  “I saw your car in the driveway,” he said. “I figured you would search me out eventually, but I waited a couple of hours before deciding I would check up on you. There must be something wrong for you to avoid everyone. No one saw you. I asked.”

  “I was really tired when I came in,” Abigail said. “I thought I’d lie down for a few minutes. I must have fallen asleep.”

  “Oh, Abigail, such a sorry excuse for an explanation. We both know you would have told someone you were here if everything was all right. That’s fine, though. I’m here now, so maybe you can tell me what the problem is. Are you okay?”

  She felt the tears gathering in her half-lidded eyes. She sniffled and looked toward the carpeted floor. “I…just have some things to think about.”

  Her father was silent, waiting, allowing her time to gather her thoughts.

  “Oh, Papa, it’s such a mess!” She got to her feet, walked the two steps to him and threw her arms around him. “I gave up my mission, placed my future at Ben’s feet, and he broke my heart. He never loved me. He just wanted me for a convenient way to get out of the marriage arrangements her mother had made for him.”

  The tears came, then, hot and fast. She had thought there were none left, but she was wrong. Her father held her tight as she cried. Soon, they stopped and she lifted her head from his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” she sniffled. “I seem to have made your shoulder wet.” She laughed, though it was a sad thing.

  “That’s fine. I’ll dry off. Do you want to tell me about it?”

  She did. Abigail told him about her doubt and how it had made her feel guilty for doubting, about the conversation Arianna had overheard, about everything that had occurred since she had last talked to her father. When she was done, she collapsed as if all the energy had been drained out of her.

  Landon Henderson listened without saying a word. When Abigail was done, he sat in silence, stroking her hair, still saying nothing. Abigail felt better for having told him and the silence seemed a comfort.

  “I made a mess of things, huh?” she said.

  “Not at all. I won’t argue that it is a hard situation. I do understand the feeling of having your heart broken, so I do not underestimate the pain you are in right now. I also won’t try to tell you you’ll feel fine anytime soon. You’re too smart to fall for that.”

  He paused, looking her in the eyes, his blue orbs catching her up, holding her, soothing her. “But I have to ask, what if Arianna was lying to you? Your doubts aside, what if she was just trying to drive a wedge between the two of you with some carefully crafted lie?”

  “I don’t think that’s the case,” Abbie said. Her voice sounded weak in her own ears.

  “You don’t think that’s the case? You don’t know?”

  Abigail put her head in her hands. “I don’t know anything, except that my heart is breaking. Ben was raised to have the attitude that those who aren’t filthy rich are not as important, not as good, as those who are. You can’t live with that every day without believing it on some level.”

  “Abigail,” her father said. “Has he ever done anything to indicate that he thinks less of you than his society friends? Has he ever treated you like you were a lesser person?”

  She thought for a moment, scanning her memories of all the interactions she had with Ben. “No.” It came out almost as a whisper. “But…”

  “I see.” Landon rubbed his chin. “It’s something to think about, then, isn’t it?”

  “I know it sounds stupid to believe someone I don’t know well and who doesn’t like me, but her story only confirms a feeling I’ve had throughout our getting to know each other. I wouldn’t make a decision based just on the word of someone like her. He has said some things, just in passing, but they sounded like he did look down on those who aren’t rich.”

  “Oh, Abbie,” he father said. “The mind and emotions are treacherous things. We can talk ourselves into just about anything. It may be possible that you’re looking for things that aren’t there, and then when some piece of evidence to back up your beliefs is presented, you take it and run with it. Or it could all be true. Take some time, think it through. There is no schedule here. Once you decide what the actual situation is, you’ll begin the healing process, either by reconciling with him or by purging him from your thoughts. Either way, I’ll be here for you.” He paused for a moment, and then added, “Abbie, I know you struggle with your feelings about onlies. You are not immune to a little prejudice yourself. None of us are. But maybe you can ask yourself if the stray thought that onlies are not as good as witches or warlocks really means that you believe that’s the truth of it.”

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. After he had gotten to his feet and left the room, Abbie threw herself back on the bed and sighed. He had given her something to think about. She felt a little better, but she knew her ordeal was far from over.

  She slept fitfully that night, waking from dreams and nightmares she hardly remembered when she finally dragged herself from her covers to go downstairs to find something to eat.

  It was not even 7:00 am yet, so the only people she saw were the servants beginning their day. The cook, Jared Scott, whipped her up some eggs and pancakes and she settled into eating mechanically. She was very hungry after not eating much at all the day before, but as she shoveled the food into her mouth, she barely tasted it. Her thoughts were on her problem.

  “I thought that was your car in the driveway,” a voice said, breaking into her thoughts. She knew that voice, and her heart jumped.

  “Zoe?” Abigail turned to the other woman walking into the small dining room. “You are a sight for sore eyes!”

  Abigail sprang from her chair and rushed over to hug her friend. It felt good to hug someone. She was feeling a little needy of human contact. With those who meant the most to her, anyway.

  “Hey, hey,” Zoe said. “Don’t crush the life out of me. Have you been working out or something? Gads, but you’re strong.”

  Abbie dropped her arms and stepped back to look at her best friend, Zoe Reyes. The two had known each other since they were toddlers and had been inseparable most of their lives. Until recently, when Zoe had been traveling while Abbie took spying missions.

  Zoe was only five feet two inches tall, but she seemed to stand much taller. She was slender and moved with a dignity that Abbie admired, as if she were royalty and the world would move out of her way. She wasn’t haughty, just…regal. Her dark brown hair reached a few inches below her shoulder and it flowed loosely as she moved her head, the light catching the highlights in it. Abigail had always been a little jealous of her friend. She was beautiful and got attention wherever she went. Her larg
e brown almond-shaped eyes fixed on hers and a gorgeous smile that brightened any room she was in beamed.

  “I’ve missed you, Abs,” Zoe said, calling her by the nickname only she used.

  “Oh, I’ve missed you too, Zo,” Abigail said. “How long are you back in town?”

  “Just a week or so. You know, busy, busy.” Zoe rolled her eyes.

  “How is your research going? How many countries have you been to since we talked last? Have you found any cool records or spells?”

  Zoe was a researcher. The coven itself covered the expenses of sending her around the world to research ancient records and to find not just histories but spells that had been lost. During the heyday of magic, it was rumored that witches could do things that boggled the minds of their modern-day counterparts. She had found enough interesting information to justify continuing her hunt.

  “I have found a few interesting things. Even to a homebody like you.” Zoe winked at her friend.

  “Ooh, tell me all about them. I could use some distraction.”

  “I’ll tell you all about them,” Zoe said. “Briefly. Then you will tell me what’s going on with you.” Abbie nodded.

  “Well,” Zoe said, “I’ve been searching all these ancient records, all over the world. I’m close to something, I know it. I can’t tell you about it just yet, not until I piece things together, but it’s big Abs, very big. I mean, so big that it’ll be talked about in every water witch coven worldwide. I can’t wait to be able to tell you more.”

  “That’s it?” Abbie asked. “You’re just going to give me, ‘it’s big and I can’t tell you about it?’ Come on, Zo, I need more than that.”

  Zoe looked around, as if someone else would be in the room. “Okay, fine. Some of these ancient records talk about a library even older than they themselves are. I am so close to finding the location. When I do, we may have the first real records of the history of witches from well before Christ walked the earth. Maybe as far back as the first civilizations in Mesopotamia.”

  “A library? That’s…pretty cool, I guess.”

  “Abs, it could solve mysteries that have been stumping us for hundreds of years, if not thousands. And think of the spells. Spellbooks that no one has seen in ages, from the golden age of magic, before civilization watered it all down and killed the most promising magic users.”

  “I see your point,” Abbie said. “Actually, that is pretty cool, now that you mention it.”

  “I know, right? So, I heard you were on a mission trying to infiltrate the household of your mother’s murderer. Is it over? Did you get the information you needed?”

  Abigail took a drink to get down the lump in her throat. How could she explain to her friend how the world had lost its light?

  “No. I abandoned the mission. There were…complications.”

  Zoe sat down and took a piece of bacon from Abigail’s plate. Munching on it, she waved her hand for Abbie to sit. “Sit down. It sounds like this is going to take a little while for you to tell it all to me.”

  A nervous giggle escaped Abbie’s mouth. Same old Zoe: right to the point. She sat down and began to tell her friend all about her troubles.

  After she was caught up, Zoe leaned back in her chair. “Hmmm. That sounds rough. Are you sure you love this guy?”

  “I do. The Elemental Powers help me, but I do. This thing is crushing me, Zo. I need to just scream. The feeling is building up in me, begging for release, but there’s nothing I can do to make it go away. Sometimes I think it’s going to make me explode. It hurts. It hurts so badly. There is a constant ache and spikes of pain on top of that. Nothing helps.”

  Zoe waited, silent. Abbie wasn’t sure if she had said something wrong or why else her friend wasn’t speaking. To fill the silence, she continued.

  “I know enough to recognize that just loving someone isn’t the answer to everything, though. I love him, but I’m not sure if that’s enough for us to be happy together. I mean, what if he’s part of Margaret Huntsman’s plans? What if he took part in the murder of my mother? What if he has secrets that make it impossible for us to be together? What if he doesn’t love me?”

  “Ah, now we come down to it,” Zoe said softly. “Do you believe you love him more than he loves you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that scares you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Abigail sighed. “You know me, Zo. I don’t just give my heart away. But I have this time. I have given it away completely. What if I love him more than anything else on earth, but his personality doesn’t fit with mine? What if he is selfish, and he’s involved in things that go against everything I believe in? Love can’t cover over those things, not for more than a short time.”

  “Oh, Abbie,” Zoe said through a laugh. “You always did make problems for yourself when there weren’t any there. We’re water witches. We go with the flow, like the waves in the ocean. Go with this. Don’t create reasons why you can’t be together before you know if any of those reasons are true.

  “If it ends up that you and he cannot be together—sometimes love just isn’t enough for two people to be together forever—then you will deal with it then. Don’t jump to conclusions and cause problems now when you don’t even know if there is a real reason.”

  Abbie looked at her friend. “I guess you’re right. I need to think about it some more, try to figure out if I’m just talking myself into something or if all my reasons are valid. Thanks, Zo. You always did know how to cut through all the mess and get to the main point.”

  “I am a researcher, after all,” Zoe said. “It’s kind of what I do. And I do it very well, I might add. We’ll talk more about some of the things I’ve found lately. After you have some alone time to think about your situation. I’ll be around, okay? Let me know when you want to talk again.”

  “I will. Thanks.” Abigail hugged her friend and then Zoe left with a little wave.

  Abbie looked at her phone lying on the table. Why hadn’t Ben texted her or called her? She had left abruptly and he didn’t even try to get in touch with her? She would put that in the con column. If he didn’t care enough to find out what was wrong, then that answered the question. Right?

  Of course, maybe he was just being compassionate. From all appearances, she had rejected him and fled. Maybe he wanted to call her but he didn’t want to pressure her or take the chance he would irritate her. That would go in the pro column. Why was this thing so hard?

  She reached for the phone to call him, but then realized she had done that before. His number was no longer valid. Had he changed it to keep her from contacting him, or was it another coincidence? He could have just blocked her instead of changing his number. Oh, she didn’t know. She felt like throwing the phone, but refrained.

  She thought for a minute about going back to the estate but forcefully shoved it out of her head. She would not act without thinking things through. That would only make matters worse. She didn’t know what was going on, but she wanted to. She would have to try to figure out a way to get the information she wanted. The information she needed.

  A dozen scenarios came to mind. Ben hated her and never wanted anything to do with her again and felt so strongly about it that he changed his number. His mother had canceled his phone so he couldn’t contact Abbie. He had been kidnapped and the ones who abducted him canceled his cell service and destroyed his phone so he could not be tracked…

  Okay, she needed to calm down and think rationally. She was being ridiculous now and that was getting her nowhere. She went back to her room to lie down. She lay there for a long time, rubbing her angel carving with her thumb and staring at the ceiling.

  Chapter 32

  Ben kept himself busy working at the restaurant for nearly two months. The Johnsons even felt comfortable enough with him running the place to take a short fishing vacation. The hours were long, which suited him. When he was working, learning how to manage the place, he had less idle time for his mind to
dwell on Abbie. Instead of thinking of her twenty-four hours a day, only half his thoughts were of her. He couldn’t push her out of his mind completely, but sometimes if he was concentrating on something else, she didn’t monopolize his thoughts completely. It would have to do.

  There was no shortage of women who flirted with him. He was young, in good physical condition, and better than average looking, he figured, so it was natural. Wearing a tie also made him look important—if they only knew—so that lured the gold diggers. He was polite, though at times it happened so many times in one night that it irritated him. The nagging thought that none of the women trying to get his attention were of his social class stuck with him, but that old prejudice wasn’t what made him disinterested.

  He didn’t want a girl. He wanted the girl. None of them were Abbie. At times, his emotional pain must have shown through when someone who reminded him of Abbie flirted with him. Their eyes would widen like he had just slapped them or said something rude, and they’d hurry off. He felt bad that he was grimacing at them, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. They would find someone else to flirt with. There was no one else for him.

  All of it reminded him of the time he had spent with Abbie, how they seemed to fit together so well, how much a part of him she felt. He didn’t even feel like a whole person without her.

  What was he doing so far away from where she was? He still didn’t know exactly where she lived, but he knew it was relatively close to his home. His former home; the estate.

  “You seem preoccupied,” JJ said to Ben as they and Mabel were sitting around one of the tables after a particularly busy Saturday, a few days after they had returned from their vacation. “Something wrong?”

  “We don’t want to pry, mind you,” Mabel said. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but it’s obvious there is more bothering you than an argument with your mother. If I were to bet, I’d say there’s a girl involved.”