Witches' Waves by Teresa Noelle Roberts Page A

frightened, though mostly what she was experiencing now was panic. Sounded too deep and harsh to come from her vocal cords.
    She wasn’t sure she’d opened her mouth.
    This wasn’t right.
    She covered her mouth and clenched her teeth, so when a scream of “Fuck no!” burst forth, she knew it wasn’t from her mouth. It came from her skull and her gut. Like Jude had feared, Shaw was dead, but he was fighting back.
    Kyle gripped her harder. “Relax,” he whispered. “Let the magic work.”
    â€œWhat he said,” Jude rumbled as his big hand came to rest on her head. “The sorcery’s trying to confuse you. Been there, done that.”
    She took a deep breath, tried to listen, tried to get back to how good the witches’ magic had made her feel, how healthy and content and, well, horny. The pain in her chest eased up.
    And she knew, unambiguously, that being free from the last vestiges of Shaw was a good thing.
    The pressure inside her skull was getting worse, though. Maybe she should have mentioned the neurological disorder, she thought blearily. Maybe the warring magics were aggravating it. It would be ironic to get free from Shaw and then die. But at least she’d die her own person, not a lab experiment, not a weapon.
    Something burst like a bubble, with a soft pop. The pain in her head stopped, and she could breathe freely.
    The music waxed louder, and so did the surf, going from a soft shushing to a roar and a crash. The moist air coalesced into warm, drenching rain. The surf grew even louder, closer.
    Water closed over Meaghan’s head, filling her lungs.

Chapter Nine
    Deck choked on a tidal surge of oceanic power.
    Not his. Meaghan’s. Whatever magical levy had been holding her water power in check collapsed abruptly under the ritual’s onslaught. She was a strong water witch, stronger than he was. But she was completely uncontrolled, untaught, and without meaning to, she was using her powers in dangerous ways.
    Deck sensed the wave building at the same time Meaghan began to thrash and bubble as if she were drowning. She was so attractive to water right now that it was actually raining over her, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The humidity in the air was collecting, rushing into her, and given how humid Oregon was, it was going to kill her with its love.
    Shit shit shit shit .
    â€œJude, hold her up,” Deck yelled. “Kyle, do something—she’s drowning. Someone get her shielded, fast!” He was probably best suited to that, being the water worker, but there wasn’t time. They’d set up the ritual in the seaside garden area, just beyond the beach, because of Meaghan’s latent water power. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. But not now.
    A big ass rogue wave was on its way as the ocean rushed to greet the water witch just released from her bonds. Pity the ocean didn’t know it would endanger said witch and them, not to mention a few fishing boats and whichever of the kids were on the beach—and there were always some, either Donovans or kids playing hooky from town. With any luck, Heather was with them. But she was only thirteen, even if she was powerful. He hadn’t been blowing bubbles when he’d said she was better than he was in a ritual setting. But pulling something out of your ass in a crisis took practice. There were a lot of factors to consider so that while trying to avert a disaster at point A, you don’t cause one at point B.
    Deck didn’t have that much practice in actual crises. He tried to avoid them whenever possible, instead of rushing into them like his parents and some of his other relatives did. But spontaneously improving the wave conditions for his surfing buddies without fucking things up down the coast couldn’t be that different from dissipating a big wave on the fly without fucking things up down the coast.
    He kept telling himself that, anyway. It was