Unbearably Stranded, Page 2

  He growled, showing a row of straight, white teeth. She saw his canines grow long and then contract. Vivian squinted. A shifter. Was he a wolf? No. A bear. Yes. A bear for sure. She could see it in his features. A grizzly.

  She took a step back, suddenly afraid for her life. Her heart leapt. He wouldn’t tear her head off in the middle of the street. She took a deep breath and let it out, trying to relax.

  “I can use my magic for you. Free of charge. I’m a healer and an alchemist. Isn’t there anything I could offer you?”

  “I don’t trust witches and your hexes,” he said, waving her away. He stomped off and disappeared into the restaurant.

  She harrumphed and stormed back to her shop. Shifters were such animals. Witches and shifters didn’t mix. Given that Mystic Harbor was full of paranormals of all kinds, it was hard to avoid them. But witches considered shifters to be dangerous and unpredictable, almost as dangerous as vampires, but not quite.

  Chapter Four

  Vivian poured her freshly distilled rose oil into small amber bottles, the strong fragrance filling the air of her shop. She heard the doorbell tingle and hurried to the front.

  There, in her shop, stood the bear from earlier that day. He was eyeing her delicate bottles and touching things with his big, clumsy hands.

  “Can I help you?” she asked irritably, raising an eyebrow.

  His eyes lifted to hers, and he frowned. “You.”

  “Yes, me. I have a name, and it’s Vivian McNealy. What can I help you with?”

  He scratched the back of his neck and looked sideways. “Laurence Aklark,” he grunted, introducing himself. “I need something for my cat. She’s been sick. I’m not sure what it is, and neither does the vet.”

  “Oh, what are the symptoms?”

  “Vomiting, hair falling out, fatigue.”

  “I see.” Vivian never would have taken the big bear shifter for a cat person.

  “She stays at home while I’m at sea. Maybe she’s just lonely.” He looked at the floor, regret in his eyes.

  “I can help your cat. It doesn’t sound that serious. I can heal almost anything with animals, except maybe old age. How old is she?”

  “Two.”

  “Then I can help… If you take me out to Sea Cliff Island.”

  He bared his teeth, growling low in his throat. She blinked wildly, trying to hold back the growing panic in her belly. This animal could shift at any moment and tear her head off.

  “Fine. Deal.”

  “Really?” she squeaked.

  “Come over after work, heal the cat, and I’ll take you out first thing in the morning.”

  He gave her his address and left the shop, taking the breathable air along with him. Vivian bit her lip. The idea of being alone with a shifter was almost as frightening as Harold staking his claim with his binding spell. Almost.

  After she closed the shop, she got in her Volkswagen Beetle and drove out to Laurence’s address. It was out of town and up a winding road that turned to dirt. She finally parked in front of a rustic cabin that overlooked a secluded beach, surrounded by dense forest.

  She got out of her car and walked up to the front door. It opened before she had a chance to knock. Shifters and their super senses, she thought. She rolled her eyes involuntarily.

  “Where is the cat?”

  “This way.”

  She followed him through his dark little cave, furnished with hand-hewn wood furniture. A stone fireplace dominated the front room. He led her into the back bedroom where a slim gray cat lay over a patchwork quilt, looking damp and ill.

  Vivian frowned. The cat was worse off than she’d thought. No matter. She could heal almost anything with animals. Humans were a bit trickier and needed far more work. She rubbed her hands together, walked toward the cat, and sat down on the bed.

  “What are you going to do?” Laurence asked behind her.

  “Heal the cat,” she said, looking up at him like he was an idiot.

  “I know, but how?”

  “The way healing magic works is I pull energy from the universe around us and direct that energy into the cat. It is painless and harmless. It works for me 99% of the time with animals.”

  “If you’re such a good healer, why do you run a soap shop?”

  She held her hands in the air over the creature, stopping to give its owner a sideways look. She rolled her eyes and dropped her hands.

  “I put the energy in everything I create. It’s a way for me to sell my products and help people without advertising I’m a witch to the world.”

  He scratched his head and nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

  Duh… She turned her attention back to the cat and rubbed her hands again. Drawing the energy from the earth and air, she slowly lowered her hands onto the sleeping cat.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she breathed the healing energy into her body. She felt it coursing through her, coming up from the chakras on the bottoms of her feet and down through the top of her head, gathering inside her body, twisting, gaining momentum, as it shot from her palms.

  She pushed harder, drawing more energy, until she could feel it flowing freely and filling the cat with light. Her eyelids batted as she breathed deeply, keeping the energy moving and circulating. She could feel it filling the cat and overflowing inside its sick body.

  Suddenly, the cat twitched under her hands. She opened her eyes to see it looking around, its eyes clear. It meowed and sat up while Vivian still directed the energy into the creature.

  The cat stretched and began to lick itself. Then, it stood and jumped off the bed, looking healthy and glowing with radiant life. Vivian capped off the energy and patted her hands together, closing the field.

  She beamed triumphantly at Laurence. He looked dumbstruck, making Vivian giggle.

  “You actually did it. I didn’t believe it was possible.”

  “I told you I could,” she said, feeling insulted.

  “Well, you never can trust a witch.”

  “Whatever,” she said, standing from the bed and flicking her hand in the air.

  “Be ready at five a.m. Meet me down at the docks, and we’ll go out to Sea Cliff Island. It’s an all-day journey, so bring food and a warm coat.”

  “I’ll be there.” Vivian began walking through the house. She noticed the cat eating from its bowl. When she reached the door, Laurence said, “Hey, thanks for healing my cat. She means a lot to me.”

  “No problem. Glad I could help.” She gave him a slight smile and went outside. She liked using her gift. It gave her life meaning. But it was one of the main reasons Harold wanted her back. He wanted to use her skills in his dark arts. Mixing healing energy with blood magic made it twice as potent.

  The idea of Harold ever using her healing again sent a shiver of repulsion down her spine, sinking in her belly like a cold, heavy stone.

  Chapter Five

  Vivian met Laurence at the docks at five a.m. on the nose, wearing a lined waterproof coat. She had a cooler with lunch and a big canister of coffee.

  She found him on his boat, wearing his fishing gear and arranging ropes and cables on the deck. She slowly walked up the ramp and cleared her throat as he moved around with his back to her.

  “Good, you’re here,” he said, turning.

  “I am. I brought lunch,” she said brightly.

  “Go sit down on the bench at the back of the cabin and stay out of the way,” he commanded.

  She frowned, but she did as he asked. She sat on the bench inside the cramped cabin behind the steering wheel and the rest of the confusing-looking dashboard. The room was cluttered with tools, rain gear, fishing poles, and nets. It stank of fish.

  Vivian wrinkled her nose and crossed her legs. The chill of the morning sea air shivered up her spine, even in her warm coat. Laurence came in a moment later, closing the door behind him. He seemed to take up the entire space with his massive presence. She felt like she had to shrink back against the wall, even though there was
at least five feet between her and where he stood at the wheel.

  Heat rose up her legs as he flipped some dials and knobs on the dashboard. She let out a sigh of relief, and the boat began to move slowly out from the harbor. The boat’s headlights glowed over the black ocean waters in the predawn darkness, and a stream of light from the lighthouse, out on the jetty, made circles around Mystic Bay.

  The boat rocked over the waves as they made their way into the open ocean. Vivian opened her coffee canister and took a deep gulp. Five a.m. was seriously damn early. She’d had to wake up at four just to shower and dry her unruly red hair.

  The coffee helped wash away the warm webs of fatigue crawling across her eyes, but not much. She yawned and tried to make herself comfortable on the hard bench. Laurence stood in front of her, his shoulders square and still, looking intently out at the ocean.

  For the better part of an hour, he didn’t move and didn’t speak. Talk about the strong silent type. This bear shifter took that cliché to a whole new level. He could at least try to make conversation. If he wasn’t going to do it, Vivian sure as hell would. The silence was killing her. If she had to sit there for another second, she’d either scream or fall asleep.

  “Have you been to Sea Cliff Island before?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Vivian rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and dropped her mouth in exasperation. One syllable answers for the lose.

  “So how will you find it?” she asked, standing for the first time. She walked over to the dashboard and looked down at the confusion of dials and knobs.

  “It’s called a navigation system. You have a GPS in your car, right?” He gave her a look that said, “You’re a ridiculous little woman, of course you need a GPS.”

  “Well, no, actually. I grew up in Mystic Harbor.” He grumbled and looked back out at the sea. “Are you from around here? I just got back home after being gone for five years. I don’t remember seeing you around before,” she asked him.

  “No. I’m from Alaska. Brought the ship down to be near my brother. He married into a black bear shifter family down here and wanted to go into business together.”

  “Do you like it here?”

  He gave her a dark look, his eyebrows creased over his nose. “Fishing isn’t as good as in Alaska. But the weather’s nice, I suppose.”

  “Who is your brother’s family?” she asked, as she knew most of the paranormal families in town.

  “His wife’s name is Jamie Wilder. You know her?”

  “Oh my god, we went to high school together. On the soccer team, right?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea. Jamie’s a good wife to my brother, but I don’t know anything about her.”

  “Oh…”

  This guy was a piece of work. He didn’t know anything about his sister-in-law. What a weirdo. Everything in her told her to “stay away” in big, bold, neon letters. Laurence might be sexy as hell in a broody kind of way, but he definitely was not a people person. Vivian sighed and took another swig of coffee.

  “Coffee?” she asked politely. Manners. Nature witches had manners.

  “No thanks.”

  She shrugged and went toward the door. “Can I go on deck?” she asked. Standing in this cooped up cabin was getting on her nerves. Even if it was cold out there, it would be better than the arctic freeze in here.

  “Fine. Just don’t touch anything.”

  Out on deck, Vivian could see the pale yellow light rising over the coastal mountains and stretching over the sapphire blue ocean waters. Wind blew cool on her face as she put her hand on the deck railing and sipped her coffee.

  The salty smell of the sea air filled her nose and she took a deep cleansing breath, filling her lungs. Vivian hadn’t been so far out to sea in years, and it did something profound to her heart and soul.

  As a nature witch, she was deeply connected to all of nature’s kingdoms. The ancient, primal kingdom of the sea was no different. She could sense the massive bodies of whales and the flitting of fish and dolphins far below the little fishing vessel.

  As the day stretched on, she found a spot to eat her lunch. She’d come to the conclusion that she should just bear Laurence’s company for as long as she needed to. He wasn’t going to make conversation or be friendly. She might as well leave it at that. Just because he didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t mean there was anything wrong with her. Obviously, this guy had some kind of personal problem.

  Late in the afternoon, a stream of dark clouds appeared on the horizon. Laurence growled at her to come into the cabin and she quickly complied.

  “This storm was not on the weather forecast. It was supposed to be clear skies for the next five days.”

  “Is it a bad storm?”

  “My weather meters are showing massive swells ahead and those clouds look ominous. We better head back. Don’t know where this came from, but I’m going no further.”

  Chapter Six

  A sense of foreboding darkness rained over Vivian’s nerves. She gulped. Magic. That was the only explanation. Who would cast a weather spell this dangerous to keep her from getting to Sea Cliff Island? Surely neither Marietta or her mother would do anything like this.

  Her family might not approve of her methods, but they would never try to harm her or even stand in her way. The only person who would do something like this was Harold. He must be watching her somehow, trying to keep her from casting the summoning spell.

  All at once, her heart dropped to the floor, and a massive lump formed in her throat. He knew. Panic quickened her blood and her breathing came in short quick gasps. Laurence gave her a worried expression but was too busy turning the ship around to do anything.

  “We have to keep going. Aren’t we close? I need to get there.”

  “The island is just beyond that sheet of rain coming our way at a hundred miles an hour,” he rumbled.

  He cranked the wheel, turning the little ship back in the direction they’d come. Waves rolled under them, tossing the ship up and down on the churning water.

  “Shit!” Laurence yelled. “Put this life vest on.” He threw an orange life vest at her before he buckled one on himself. Waves lapped hard and fast against the ship’s stern. Vivian hurried to the bench and held on for dear life while Laurence gritted his teeth and steered the ship away from the storm.

  The boat was knocked hard from behind and pitched forward. Vivian watched as the sea came crashing toward them. Black, bubbling water rushed through all the seams in the ship, flowing toward them.

  Laurence grabbed her hand and pulled her through the torrent. His big hand gripped her wrist as water smashed her in the face. She choked, sputtering and coughing. As she gasped for air, Laurence flung a life raft off the side of the wildly tilting ship.

  There was no time to think. A massive wave pitched the ship on its side as they jumped into the water. Laurence disappeared in the darkness and rain. Vivian slapped against the writhing water, trying to stay afloat.

  An arm grabbed her around the waist, and Laurence paddled them toward the life raft that bobbed on the violent water.

  “Grab hold!” he yelled over the din. Vivian grabbed the slick rubber, grasping and pulling herself up as Laurence heaved her the rest of the way. He pulled himself out of the water with incredible strength, toppled into the life raft, and fell on his back, panting.

  They watched as the ship sunk into the churning black water. Laurence’s face was a mask of shock and disgust. Vivian’s heart broke for him in that instant. All that mattered to him was gone.

  He lay back and put his hand to his forehead, his chest still heaving. As soon as the last trace of the ship disappeared below the stormy sea, the rain cleared. The clouds parted and the sky became bright azure blue.

  Vivian blinked up into the sunshine. Magic. Her ex-husband Harold’s magic. She leaned back on the raft as it bobbed on the gentle waves, in total shock and at a complete loss. Laurence looked stricken, but his expression soon changed.

 
He began looking around, inspecting their position, gazing at the sun and the direction of the waves. He pulled a paddle from a compartment in the life raft and began to move them through the rocking ocean waves.

  “The island is that way, less than a mile. I’m sure of it.”

  Within a few minutes of Laurence paddling, an island came into view. It was like a green beacon shining in the vast landscape of sea. Vivian shivered, soaked and weary. She wanted to cry, but didn’t have the strength for that.

  Thank God for Laurence and his knowledge of the ocean. If it had been someone who didn’t have his experience or bravery, she was sure she’d now be dead.

  He pulled them ashore over the last of the waves lapping against the beach. He directed her out of the boat as they reached the shore. Vivian stomped through the breakers, her clothes weighing on her as the water dragged her down.

  Finally, she reached the shore and collapsed in the cool damp sand. Laurence dragged the life raft up the beach to a dry place, above the high tide line. He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the area. Vivian watched him, barely able to move.

  “Come on. We need to get a fire going and get these clothes off, or you’re going to get hypothermia.”

  He pulled her to her feet and she followed him, shaking violently, above the high tide line. He began to pull his clothing off. First the jacket and shirt, then the rubber pants. He’d lost his boots out in the waves.

  Vivian stood there, holding herself as she shivered, her teeth chattering. She watched his taut muscles flex as he removed the last of his clothes, down to his boxers.

  “Take them off, lady, or you’re going to be hating life. Can you heal yourself when you’re nearly dead?”

  “No,” she said, her teeth knocking hard in her mouth. Her shaking fingers tried to grip the zipper on her jacket and pull it down. Laurence frowned and unzipped it for her. He removed the rest of her clothes as if she were a child, leaving her in her bra and panties.

  “Should take those off too, but they’ll dry quick enough. We need a fire. I’m going to get some dry wood. You stay here and try to keep warm.”