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“What kind of magic you got, though, baby?” he asks. “Your aunt froze me in mid-air when I lunged for your sister back behind the drycleaners. Had me frozen in mid-air before I hit the wall. You can do that?”
“Dani told me. Nobody saw Auntie do that before. Could I do something like that? I think maybe, based on what happened with those guys that tried to take me from the cabin. They didn’t freeze in mid-air; they were physically whooshed away.”
“How’d you make that happen?”
“I asked for energy, I barely articulated what I needed. That’s part of what made it so shocking to me. I wanted them to go and asked the willow tree for help. I wasn’t sure what’d happen; I know that’s an old tree in a magically rich area and thought it might give me something to fight them off. I’ve always been partial to weeping willows. I don’t know how I knew what to do. I just… knew. And the tree threw a broken limb and it caught on fire.”
“Pretty cool.”
“Pretty scary. Also, I was really, really angry. The other guy wanted to hurt you. Hurt your friends. And I got mad. Then I used the energy inside them, and it seemed like it… fried them.”
“Yeah, the guys told me.”
“That was scary. I want more training, to learn what I can do, how to make sure it doesn’t scare me, make sure I don’t overdo it out of anger.”
“You didn’t know what you were dealing with. Now you’ve got some idea. You’ll learn how to wield it, baby. You will.”
I nod. “When Aunt Lyrica and I sat under a tree the day I first saw you and you were about to get close, she whooshed us back, but it was more controlled. This is why some more training would be good.”
“Can you try and whoosh your clothes down here without gettin’ them wet?”
“Let’s find out,” I say.
We swim to the bank where there’s enough of a rock ledge to sit on and after ringing my hair out, I send my intention out into the universe, asking for our clothes. I hold my arms open and wait, envisioning them floating to me. Envisioning them staying dry.
We’re both staring up. Nothing happens.
“Nope. Guess it’s more complicated than envisioning them,” I finally say. “They’re not living so there’s no energy. Maybe they need energy for me to move them. I don’t have telekinesis.”
Riley’s nose twitches. “I know that scent.”
“Hey!” We hear.
Riley pulls me closer to cover my nudity.
“Thought that was you two down there,” Mason says, standing at the cliff’s edge, also nude.
I shield my eyes. Holy horses, these Arcana Falls alphas are built.
“Sorry, Erica,” he calls. “Junk’s covered.”
I give him a thumbs up.
“All these non-shifting women, hey Rye? Gotta change our habits. What are you guys doin’ down there?”
“Makin’ peace,” Riley says.
“Ah,” Mason replies after a few beats as if he does get it. “River and Rye’s witch.” Mason touches the side of his nose.
“Yep,” Riley says.
He does seem to get it.
“Any chance you can walk about twenty paces and grab our clothes and shoes and drop ‘em to us?” Riley asks.
“Sure thing,” Mason agrees and disappears from view.
“Guess your powers worked mysteriously there,” Riley says.
“You think? Might be just a coincidence.”
“From what we’ve seen the last few months around here, I feel like there aren’t too many genuine coincidences, little witch.”
I laugh. “Fair point.”
***
Once dressed, he helps me up the hill; we’re in a spot far less steep than where we jumped in with a gradually inclining hill and plenty of trees on it that I can use to pull myself back up.
It takes a couple minutes to do that, Riley protectively behind me, ensuring I don’t fall. And then I hear what sounds like bickering when we get to the top. I see Mason and Amie there and she looks hostile.
“Hey,” I greet her.
“Hey Erica,” she says, and she’s blushing. Not hostile?
“Did you catch an eyeful?” I ask.
“Of?” she asks, confused.
“Of us. Naked.”
“Oh, no. Why?”
“You look embarrassed.”
“She is embarrassed,” Mason says, looking like he finds something very funny.
“They can skinny dip if they want to, Mase,” she mutters.
He’s still nude, cupping his junk. Amelia is fully dressed in jean shorts, a baseball hat, t-shirt, and running shoes.
He laughs. “That’s not what she’s embarrassed about.”
“Zip it,” she warns.
Yep, hostility. At Mason, not us.
“Runnin’ with your mate?” Riley asks, looking at her attire likely.
“Running from her mate more like,” Mason mutters, laughing.
“Shut. Up!” Amie snaps at him, face going redder.
“Just a little primal play.” Mason shrugs.
“We are so in a fight right now, Doggo.”
“Aw, c’mon, Wildberry,” he says. “They get it. Don’t you, guys?”
Primal play? That sounds fun. I don’t get a chance to respond.
“No,” she denies. “I’m going home. Bye, Erica. See you tomorrow maybe. Lunch at Roxy’s? Twelve?”
