Page 25 of Summer L.A.W.

The witches grabbed surfboards and charged toward the dunes. Waves thundered, relentless, as if the ocean itself was waiting for them and daring them to try.

The witches pounded down the sandy path like a coven of track stars, the mansion’s wards nudging them along as if even the house was in a hurry. The seabird wheeled overhead, shrieking its silver-edged warning.

Halfway down, Joell snapped her fingers. A shimmer of magic rippled outward, and suddenly, the lot of them weren’t in their clothes anymore.

Sahara cursed as her businesslike blazer and pencil skirt vanished, replaced with a neon-green two-piece that looked like it had been stolen from a surfer chick’s laundry line. “Seriously?”

Magda inspected her own one-piece, black and sensible. She shrugged. “Could be worse. At least it’s not crocheted.”

Victoria, of course, looked like she’d just stepped off a Milan runway — her deep indigo bikini draped with sheer, glittering panels that caught the last light like diamonds. She adjusted her sunglasses and tossed her hair back with practiced ease.

Mason limped after them, blood, sand, and bruises everywhere. “Is this really the time for a fashion show?”

Victoria shot him a cool glance over her oversized shades. “It’s always the time for a fashion show.”

Crowe, Joell’s partner, barked a laugh and jogged ahead, the picture of someone who couldn’t care less if he was wearing swim trunks conjured by witchcraft or bought off a rack.

They hit the sand together, the surf foamed wild at their feet, the horizon darkening after the sunset.

Mason stuffed earplugs in his ears and muttered, “I can’t believe I’m about to storm the beach with a bunch of runway models and a psychotic bird.”

“My familiar is not psychotic!” Crystal yelled.

“What the hell?” Mason squinted and scanned the ocean. “Crystal?”

“There!” Lioness yelled, pointing toward a spot that looked no bigger than a bean off in the distance.

The witches charged over the waves, landing on their knees on their surfboards. They paddled like mad to get to Crystal. Mason was getting used to strange and impossible occurrences whenever the witches were involved. Yes, Raoul had warned him about possible odd occurrences, but… What did taking it in stride say about his mental state?

Finally, he plowed through the water like he was born to it. All the pain faded from his body-smacking, and he did a powerful crawl to catch up to the witches on their surfboards. Eventually, he passed them and reached Crystal first.

He grabbed her in a lifeguard’s rescue hold and began a side stroke toward the shore.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Crystal yelled.

“Saving your life. I thought you were a goner.”

“Gee, thanks, but if you’ll let me go, I’ll show you something.”

Curious, not only about what she wanted to show him, but also how she was alive, he let go and treaded water next to her.

The witches caught up to them and straddled their boards while surrounding the couple in the water.

“Hey, sisters, look at this!” Crystal turned her head sideways, letting them get a look behind each of her ears. Some gawked. Some ooohed and ahhhed.

Mason was directly in front of her and couldn’t see what she was showing them. “What’s happening?

She turned around, and he caught his breath. Gills. The girl had gills!

“How? When? Did the Sea Witch give you those?”

“Kind of. I guess they were always there, just below the surface. When she pulled off my breathing apparatus and pulled me down into the depths, I thought I was dead. Then something exploded on the sides of my head, and I could breathe!”

“Underwater?” Sahara asked.

“Yes! It seems as if my Sea Witch DNA helped me save myself.

Sahara blinked. “So… half-witch, half-mermaid? What does that make you? A weremaid?”