Page 10 of Untraced Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #1)

Morgan

Air scraped the back of my throat as I hurled in a breath, bolting upright in my bed. My chest rapidly rose and fell, and I swallowed as I took in the view of my room, reminding myself that it was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real.

They came to me once a week now, always the same vision of the dark-haired woman with those intensely sharp eyes. She called out to me on the nights she found me in my dreams, like a tether I couldn’t break.

I pulled my bedcover high over my head, away from the light spilling through my window. What the hell was I thinking, not shutting my curtains?

Then memories of last night flooded the peaceful space between my sheets. Holy crap.

Tyler.

Tequila.

The lap dance.

I groaned. Idiot.

Dancing with Tyler felt like a sin. A giant, mouthwatering sin. I couldn’t get the guy out of my mind. He had a confidence about him without being cocky, but his eyes gave nothing away. Dark and guarded.

Banging came from the front door, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Morgan, are you awake? Open up, it’s me, Skye.”

I threw back my covers before padding to the front door, swinging it open. Skye still had on her sequin dress from the night before, her heels dangling in her hands. Shadows hung under her eyes, and she massaged her temple, the tell-tale sign of a wicked hangover.

I laughed. “You look ridiculous.”

“I feel like a bag of arseholes. I haven’t had a night like that in ages,” she replied with a groan.

“You and me both,” I agreed.

Following me inside, she helped herself to a glass of water and flopped down on the couch. “So, what’s going on with you and my brother?” She eyed me curiously. “You guys looked pretty cozy on the dance floor last night.”

She was right. We were cozy on the dancefloor. Really freaking cozy.

Crap.

“Well, he can dance. I thought he’d have two left feet,” I said matter of factly.

A laugh erupted from Skye.

“Tyler never dances. Seems you convinced him otherwise.”

I cringed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “What’s his deal anyway? He’s so…” I struggled to find the ri ght words.

“Ty’s been through a lot over the past few years.

” She hesitated as if unsure about something, like it wasn’t her information to share.

She finally squared her shoulders, her voice lowering.

“He lost someone close to him. If he wants to talk about it, he will, but he’s a private guy, so don’t bet on it. ”

“Oh, that’s horrible,” I said softly. My heart pained to hear what he had been through. He hid it so well. Too well.

“Please don’t tell him I said anything,” she pleaded, her tired gaze meeting mine earnestly.

I shook my head. “I would never.”

I had no plans to talk to Tyler. In fact, I needed to put as much space between us as humanly possible. Secrets were better kept sober, and in one’s own company.

“Thank you.” She smiled with relief. “The last thing I need is another male with his sack in a twist,” she mumbled.

A laugh forced from me. There was quite obviously someone else with their junk out of joint in her life.

I arched a brow. “Do I detect man trouble?” I joked.

She stilled momentarily, drawing her eyes to mine before waving a hand through the air.

She shook her head. “No, No ,” she said, as if convincing herself. “It’s really nothing. Honestly. Not even worth a mention.” She stood, clearly stating her boundaries.

Got it. It wasn’t like we were close friends anyway.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Skye asked, sipping the last of her water, then placing her empty glass in the dishwasher .

“You mean besides getting rid of this god-awful smell of liquor off me?” I screwed up my nose and sighed. “I need to find a job.”

“Maybe try Jinxed; Reid was looking for extra staff. If I hear of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

I smiled. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

She gave me a quick hug before heading toward the door, heels in hand.

***

That afternoon, the unmistakable sound of the front door creaking open turned my head to the hall. The familiar voice of Betty made me smile.

“Yoohoo, anyone home? Morgan, it’s me, Betty.”

She appeared in my living room, having already let herself inside.

She gave me a sheepish look. “Sorry, dear, I hope I didn’t frighten you. The door was unlocked, so I just let myself in.”

“Oh, hey Betty.” I motioned her over, hiding my smile at the lilac pantsuit she wore. “Am I going to have to change the locks?” I joked with a knowing look on my face, half serious.

She flushed. “Sorry, dear, old habits die hard, I guess. I will knock next time, promise.”

“Thank you.”

I smiled at the elderly woman who always seemed to be ‘made up.’ Not an inch of her gray hair was out of place, and she wore matching makeup to suit her choice of color for the day .

She came closer, sitting on one of the wooden barstools perched on the opposite side of my kitchen counter. Smoothing down her pantsuit, her eyes met mine again. “I thought I’d check if there was any mail for me to collect? I haven’t had the chance to change my postal address just yet.”

“Sure thing,” I said, passing over the small pile of envelopes I had collected. I mustered an apologetic look. “Here you go. Sorry, they look like bills.”

Betty kindly waved me off. “Don’t be sorry. There’s no way to avoid them.” She scanned the room. “Looks like you’re all settled in. The place looks cozy.”

I nodded with a grin. “Thanks. I like it here. I met a few of the neighbors last week, too. They seem friendly enough.”

I laughed inwardly at my own words. Friendly was an understatement. Smoking hot would be a better term as I recalled the way Tyler’s hands had curled around my waist on the dance floor.

Betty beamed. “Oh, well, I’m glad you’re settling in okay. It’s always hard when you move to a new town and don’t know anyone.”

She paused for a moment, lines rippling her forehead.

“Dear, where did you get this?” she asked.

I followed her gaze to a gold necklace with a large heart shape locket hanging off it.

I’d placed it in a small bowl on the kitchen counter with a few other odd bits and pieces I hadn’t sorted through yet.

“Oh, that? It’s a family heirloom of mine.

” I could recall when mother gave it to me on my twenty-first birthday.

She said she knew little about its history, but that it dated back many years .

Her gray-blue irises clouded with interest. “It appears rather antique. Do you mind if I take a closer look?”

I shrugged. “Sure. I’m not really sure of its history, but it must date back a few years.”

She picked up the necklace, turning it over in her hand. “Well, it must be very special indeed.” She stood suddenly, placing it back in the bowl. “I must go now. Thank you for the mail.”

She gave a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and a moment later, she was out the door and gone.

Strange.

I picked up the necklace, turning the locket over in my palm, my fingers tracing the intricate details of its exterior.

Its licks of golden bronze hinted its age, possibly antique like Betty said, the symbol on the back unfamiliar, but etched into both my mind and my dreams.

I placed it back in the bowl; it was something I would never wear. Too big, and bold . It just wasn’t me. I ventured outside, hoping some fresh air would kick my hangover.

Turning down a track that snaked its way along the waterfront, my shoes made footprints into the silt behind me as I walked aimlessly to nowhere in particular.

In the distance, a willow tree with naked limbs hung low to the ground, weeping for its spirit to return, and I found myself underneath it on an aged wooden seat.

A stillness had settled over the cove. Its murky waters looked like death floating on a blanket of midnight, always surrounded in that mist that felt like a living thing. Like it watched us all .

I was sure it breathed the same oxygen but survived on our exhales, the decrepit part of us its fuel.

Its calm demeanor drew me in, although to what I wasn’t entirely sure.

But whatever it was, it was working.

I felt it.

Cutters Cove had hummed its melody, and its beat had embedded itself deep within me.

My fingertips tiptoed over the natural knots woven into the seat’s timber, and closing my eyes, I leaned back, allowing nature to breathe its life back into me.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

My hand clamped my chest at the voice coming from behind me.

“Tyler, you scared me, don’t do that!”

He surveyed me with caution. “Sorry. Mind if I sit?”

Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, it was a Tyler I hadn’t seen before, and I was definitely onboard with it.

“Sure.” I gestured to the space beside me on the wooden bench.

He sat down, resting his elbows on his thighs, and I noticed his knee popping up and down on the spot. Was he… anxious?

“I used to come down here with Wes as a kid,” he admitted. A distance filled his voice as he looked out over the water. “It hasn’t changed much over the years.”

Comfortable silence filled the space between us, but his mere presence had every cell in my body on edge. I didn’t trust myself to speak, too unsure where the conversation was going. Maybe the lap dance was too much. I should have refused the dare and taken the shot instead.

“About last night…” he began but seemed to stall as if trying to find the right words. His thumbs circled themselves, and I remembered how those hands felt on my hips. “Morgan, there are things about me I can’t tell you.”

I ran my hands over my necklace, my insides somersaulting at the butterflies that had awoken in my stomach.

I wondered what he meant by that. What things he considered not worthy of my trust. Compared to mine, I bet his were miniscule. I wanted to tell him he could trust me, have him know anything he told me would stay between us. Because I knew how important one’s word was to another.

He looked as nervous as I felt.

Finally, Tyler blurted, “You need to stay away from me.”

Okay… I was not expecting that.