The smell of exhaust floated up from the engines as Rikki steered the trawler into the south cove of Oldfell Island. I smiled up at her from the bow, thinking she was cute and petite and a total badass when it came to handling a fishing trawler. And the Traveler wasn't exactly one of those fishing boats decked out with all the modern computer amenities, making it easier to maneuver. She was captaining the ship old world style and doing a great job.

"Guess it's easy to see how you stepped smoothly into the ferryman position," Wilder called from the bow.

"It definitely helped. It took longer getting used to the creepy cargo than it did moving the ferry around in that pudding thick river." Rikki adjusted her captain's hat to shade her eyes from the sun glinting off the deep blue water in the cove.

"Look, two egrets!" Willow pointed over the starboard side at Poplar's Beach. The long necked birds stood out like white, slow moving statues on the ivory and gray pebbles lining the beach.

"Poplar's Beach," Wilder said over my shoulder. "Shit, if that doesn't bring back memories. I still remember when Danique got stung badly by a jellyfish. Man, did she cry." He laughed and slapped my shoulder. "And then you told her you read that the only way to stop the sting was to piss on it and you started untying your suit."

I shook my head. "And she cried harder. I was only trying to help. And then Skittles told Nessa and I nearly got my ass tanned."

Wilder smiled at the nickname. "Skittles. Shit, I forgot we called Danique that. She used to get all huffy about it, but I think she kind of liked it."

There was never any doubt that Wilder was the one who’d always had a special affection for Nessa's granddaughter, Danique. Of course, he treated her just like any preteen guy would have treated a girl he had a crush on, with complete disregard and teasing barbs. But we all knew. Everyone that is, except Danique. Danique's screams were the last thing we heard when we were dragged out of our beds and tossed into motorboats to be taken away from Oldfell Island for good.

Flint came to stand with us. "The island looks even cooler than I remember. Or maybe that's because we spend so much time in a place that is devoid of color, light and life that every place else on earth looks like a damn oil painting."

"I think that theory is spot on." I walked up to the pilot house to help navigate for Rikki. Her white smile sparkled under the shade of her hat. "Looks like a fun place to grow up. I've heard of Oldfell Island, but I've only ever seen it on our way to the fishing grounds. There's a visitor ferry on the other side, right?"

"Yeah but they cart happy, jolly tourists back and forth from the mainland instead of whiny, obnoxious souls. And I know for a fact their ferry captain isn't an adorable brunette." I pushed her hair off her neck and lowered my mouth to kiss her silky skin. "An adorable brunette who has me hotter than a fucking stallion on steroids. Too bad we've got a boat full of people. I'd take you right here at the helm."

"Uh, I think we tried that and a certain someone was just a little too big for the space. Where should I park this sucker?"

"Keep it on this side of the rock jetty. We can lower the anchor and take the dinghy to shore. The cove has a pretty rocky bottom once you pass the outermost tip of the jetty."

"It looks sort of remote. I expected more people and shops. I thought Oldfell was sort of a vacation destination."

"It is but that's on the northern shore where the ferry lands. There are some inns and rental cabins along with the usual tourist shops. But Nessa's cottage is on the remote side of the island, where the paths are overgrown with plants and hard to find and the beaches are dangerously rocky. A perfect place to grow up, as far as I'm concerned. We spent a lot of time on those rocks. Broke some bones on them too, but Nessa was great at setting them. After we got kicked out of school, we hardly ever went to the other side of the island."

Rikki glanced up at me. "Kicked out of school? Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey, Max, you let Nessa know we were all coming, right?" Stryker called up to the helm.

"Yes for the hundredth time, Bozo. She mentioned the possibility of peach pie, depending on how she was feeling."

The words peach pie sent a wave of excitement across the deck, which drew a laugh from Rikki. "Judging from the way those guys look as if they are just a few hip swings away from a full victory dance, I take it Nessa's peach pies are tasty."

"Like everything else she cooked up in that teensy, little kitchen. I didn't know it back then because I had no idea there were such things as witches, but, in retrospect, it seemed there was always a little magic in everything Nessa did."

I pointed ahead. "There, you can start to see the submerged rocks. I'd anchor right here. Then we can row a shore in that nice little dinghy your dad has hanging off the port side. And hopefully, I won't sink it."