Read Online The Wolf Witch (The Keys Trilogy Book 1) by Anna Roberts - Free Book Online
Authors: Anna Roberts
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- but before she knew it the gap between boards and boat had widened to what looked like half an ocean, and there was no turning back.
The boat rocked and shuddered under her. She opened her mouth and breathed the salt air in deep, deep, just to remind herself that it wasn’t like the last time. Not like it was with the stink of death all around and not knowing if the next thing to nudge your oar was going to be a body, floating and bloated to grotesque Violet Beauregarde proportions. Everything wet and filthy.
Let me die dry, Lord. All I’m askin’ is that I die dry.
“Okay?” Gabe yelled over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Fine,” Blue shouted back, filling her palm with coconut-smelling sunblock. It chased away the other smells, the ones she could never forget. And it wasn’t so bad once they were moving. The faster Gabe went, the smoother it felt, like the boat was skimming across the surface of the water instead of pitching and wallowing around in it.
She gingerly made her way to the front to join him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. What?”
“What’s with the eyes?”
Gabe laughed, his own eyes screwed up against the glitter of the sun on the water. “Superstition. Something my grandpa said some of the old Cubanos used to do. The really old guys, the ones who could remember Spain.”
“What does it do?”
“Nothing. It’s a superstition. Superstition doesn’t do shit, except make you feel better.” He cut the engine. “And maybe score you days off every month.”
“You go to church?”
He grinned. “Hell, no. But the story goes that the eyes get all confused when the full moon’s shining; can’t tell the moon in the water from the moon in the sky. That’s how you get wrecked; moon’s a trickster.”
Blue hung onto the side. The boat was rolling again. “You believe that?”
“Nope, but I take the days off anyway. And Kate can’t do a damn thing about it.”
Kate owned the hotel. In an off-moment Charmaine had allegedly once called her the Great White Queen, and Stacy had loved it so much she had all but forgotten Kate’s real name. Kate was from New York originally – tall, model-thin and blonde. Blue tried to imagine her passing up her cut of Gabe’s cruise revenue for three days out of every month and couldn’t do it.
“How on earth do you swing that?”
Gabe pulled out a long boat hook and stretched it out towards a large, orange buoy. “Easy. We just tell the moon story to the tourists and they lap that shit up. Local color. Total bullshit, but it gives them a story to tell when they go back to Wisconsin or Kansas or wherever.” He jumped down into the bottom of the boat and pulled over the diving equipment. “Kate bitched the air blue about it at first but then there was the accident.”
“Accident?”
He picked up the sunscreen. “Lift your hair,” he said. “I need to get your back. When you’re face down in the water it’s the first thing to burn.”
She did as she was told, the steady motion of the waves beneath her doing nothing to settle either her nerves or her stomach. “What accident?” she said.
“You know that Palm Court place down the beach?” he said, his hands smoothing over her back with a businesslike touch. “Well, when Kate first bought this place they were our direct competition. And they were killing it. They’d take people out no matter what shape the moon was in and Kate was pissed ; she actually sat me down and told me if I didn’t step up and do full moon cruises then she was going to fire me and find an instructor who would.”
“So you did?”
She felt his breath on the back of her neck as he exhaled. “Nuh uh,” he said. “But the Palm Court guy did. Think he was from Key Largo or something. Whatever – he wasn’t superstitious. He took these honeymooners out on the second day of the full moon; some yuppie kids from North Carolina. And that’s when it all went wrong.” He slapped her lightly on the back of the
The boat rocked and shuddered under her. She opened her mouth and breathed the salt air in deep, deep, just to remind herself that it wasn’t like the last time. Not like it was with the stink of death all around and not knowing if the next thing to nudge your oar was going to be a body, floating and bloated to grotesque Violet Beauregarde proportions. Everything wet and filthy.
Let me die dry, Lord. All I’m askin’ is that I die dry.
“Okay?” Gabe yelled over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Fine,” Blue shouted back, filling her palm with coconut-smelling sunblock. It chased away the other smells, the ones she could never forget. And it wasn’t so bad once they were moving. The faster Gabe went, the smoother it felt, like the boat was skimming across the surface of the water instead of pitching and wallowing around in it.
She gingerly made her way to the front to join him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. What?”
“What’s with the eyes?”
Gabe laughed, his own eyes screwed up against the glitter of the sun on the water. “Superstition. Something my grandpa said some of the old Cubanos used to do. The really old guys, the ones who could remember Spain.”
“What does it do?”
“Nothing. It’s a superstition. Superstition doesn’t do shit, except make you feel better.” He cut the engine. “And maybe score you days off every month.”
“You go to church?”
He grinned. “Hell, no. But the story goes that the eyes get all confused when the full moon’s shining; can’t tell the moon in the water from the moon in the sky. That’s how you get wrecked; moon’s a trickster.”
Blue hung onto the side. The boat was rolling again. “You believe that?”
“Nope, but I take the days off anyway. And Kate can’t do a damn thing about it.”
Kate owned the hotel. In an off-moment Charmaine had allegedly once called her the Great White Queen, and Stacy had loved it so much she had all but forgotten Kate’s real name. Kate was from New York originally – tall, model-thin and blonde. Blue tried to imagine her passing up her cut of Gabe’s cruise revenue for three days out of every month and couldn’t do it.
“How on earth do you swing that?”
Gabe pulled out a long boat hook and stretched it out towards a large, orange buoy. “Easy. We just tell the moon story to the tourists and they lap that shit up. Local color. Total bullshit, but it gives them a story to tell when they go back to Wisconsin or Kansas or wherever.” He jumped down into the bottom of the boat and pulled over the diving equipment. “Kate bitched the air blue about it at first but then there was the accident.”
“Accident?”
He picked up the sunscreen. “Lift your hair,” he said. “I need to get your back. When you’re face down in the water it’s the first thing to burn.”
She did as she was told, the steady motion of the waves beneath her doing nothing to settle either her nerves or her stomach. “What accident?” she said.
“You know that Palm Court place down the beach?” he said, his hands smoothing over her back with a businesslike touch. “Well, when Kate first bought this place they were our direct competition. And they were killing it. They’d take people out no matter what shape the moon was in and Kate was pissed ; she actually sat me down and told me if I didn’t step up and do full moon cruises then she was going to fire me and find an instructor who would.”
“So you did?”
She felt his breath on the back of her neck as he exhaled. “Nuh uh,” he said. “But the Palm Court guy did. Think he was from Key Largo or something. Whatever – he wasn’t superstitious. He took these honeymooners out on the second day of the full moon; some yuppie kids from North Carolina. And that’s when it all went wrong.” He slapped her lightly on the back of the
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