~ Chapter Four ~ #2
Lutin sat in one of the soft sided chairs.
“A Hereditary Witch is a natural-born Witch, or one whose parents were Witches. The Jones were natural-born Witches. Typically, Witches aren’t born to non-witches, but human genetics are…
unexpected and those births are a challenge for the Witch Community. ”
“Okay, so what am I then? Am I one of those oddities?”
“Well, have a seat.”
Regan joined him, rubbing his damp hands along the fabric of the chair.
“This is an oversimplification, but as the name implies, Elemental Witches invoke elemental energies as an empowering force for magical goals. But Mother Nature and the universe can be quite capricious.” Lutin paused, watching Regan carefully.
“This means that practitioners of Elemental Magic need to study and train diligently to wield their powers. And if the Elementals don’t want to play, then no amount of study or training will elicit a response.
And Elemental Witches can be born to anyone and happen at any time, which is why the Witch Council keeps an eye out for them.
In most cases, if an Elemental Witch isn’t trained, their abilities wither up and die. ”
“But I never studied anything.”
“I know. The Elementals are not spirits who can be ordered around casually. And in your case, they appear to be connected to you.” He beamed. “Maybe they adopted you when you were young.”
“Why me?”
“I don’t know, they must have felt you’d need them. But without nurture and training, I would’ve thought they’d have vanished years ago.”
“I remember reading in Max’s book that he thought the Elementals might be because I’m so handy or something like that. And I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands, especially working with electricity and water so maybe that’s why?”
“Honestly, that’s as good as an explanation as any.” Lutin leaned back in his chair. “And they’re with you still.”
“Max said they were tiny… and cute.” He smirked.
Lutin nodded. “They are. I’ve seen them around you hiding. Not so cute this morning when you had your moment.”
Regan rubbed his head. “Sorry about that.”
Lutin reached out and patted Regan’s knee. “It’s fine. But they’re there, and as we saw, they are tuned to your emotions.”
“Will I ever see them?”
Lutin glanced around before facing Regan. “Probably. They might end up showing themselves to you with a little coaxing, but…”
Regan sank heavier into his chair. “How many Elementals are there?”
“You mean in total?”
Regan nodded.
Lutin thought a moment. “Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Those are the most common, but also Shadow, Smoke, Electricity, Time, Death, Light, and Gravity.”
“Time and Death?”
“Don’t get excited. Those Elementals aren’t what you think.” Lutin shook his head. “They can’t manipulate things like you’re hoping. Remember, the universe has rules and nothing can change what has happened.”
Regan frowned. “Still… are you sure?”
Lutin’s head slowly bobbed up and down. “In this universe, there are few things I’m 100% certain of, and this, I’m sorry to say, is one of them. People do try, but in the end, they go crazy and die.”
“For Max, risking everything might be worth death.”
“No!” Lutin stood, towering over Regan. The wispy man he had grown used to vanished, replaced with a large being solid and intimidating, all hints of beauty evaporated.
“Max would never want to trade your life for his. Please never say such a thing! You dishonor his memory and I will not allow that level of disrespect for his or his love of you.” His voice boomed.
Regan shuddered as he sank deeper into his chair, his pulse quickening as his eyes grew large. “I…” His voice trembled. “I won’t. I’m sorry.”
“Good.” Lutin’s voice returned to normal and as if nothing happened he was back, the soft and delicate features returning to the man.
If Regan had any delusions that there wasn’t more to him, then this display proved him wrong. Clearly this being was more than human. “What are you?” His voice shook.
Lutin huffed. “I’m a Celtic Fae.”
“A what?”
“You’ve heard of Fae, right?”
“I think so.” Regan played with the buttons on his shirt, unsure where to look or what to say. How much of what he knew was fact and how much fiction? “I mean, they’re from the Pagans, and aren’t they part of Wicca or whatever?”
“Pretty much, but I’m Celtic.”
“Are you a god?”
Lutin burst out laughing. “No. I mean, thank you, but no. I’m a simple Fae. I’ve been serving the Jones family for as long as they have been in the New World.”
“And they’re gone now?” Regan kept his face and tone neutral, not planning on seeing Lutin angry again.
“No, their bloodline lives on, but not in any way that I would still be connected to them. Their blood has been diluted, and from what I’ve learned, there is no magic left in that line, but with genetics…
who knows. As far as I’m aware, Max was the last of their line.
It’s a great loss and I miss them.” Lutin wiped at his eyes.
“Now what? I mean what do you do?”
“Well”—Lutin cleared his throat—“I can return home. Or if I decide, I can bond myself to another person or family, but they would have to agree to maintain the Jones territory… well, really my territory.
“Your territory?”
“My family and I have an area of the Earth that we look after; the West Coast of North America. The Jones family and I ensured the balance was maintained and nothing bad happened. My family helps me and I assist with other areas as needed, but mostly I stay on the West Coast along with other members of my family.”
“I thought you said Valentine and Max handled the territory?” Regan asked. “And why the West Coast? Why here?”
“That’s part of why I have opinions. The magical community is… well, there are a lot of big egos, and…” Lutin smirked. “Anyway, this place is where I’m the most connected to the Earth.” He reached out his hand. “Come on, we have one more place to visit and I’m sure you must be getting hungry.”
“I could eat.” Regan took Lutin’s hand and stood.
Lutin raised his hands in front of the double doors and the current of lights began. With little effort, they stood at the front door of a modern condo. The warmth instantly greeted Regan as he walked around.
“Well, this is different.”
Lutin beamed. “It’s a great condo with a beautiful view. Check it out.”
Regan walked through the hall, passing a small kitchen, and into a joint living and dining room.
Before him was a set of glass doors with an incredible view.
Out ahead of him lay the city of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.
Lutin hadn’t lied—there was an astonishing view of the old city and the ocean.
He pulled open the sliding doors and walked onto the patio, taking in the view and the warm air.
He inhaled as deeply as possible. Footsteps greeted his ears as Lutin joined him on the patio. “Breathtaking.”
“You and Max have been here before, right?”
“Not here, but we’ve been to Cabo a few times. Max wanted us to come here, but I…” Regan leaned on the railing. “This was the place he mentioned in his journal.” He shook his head. “I’m an idiot.”
Lutin cleared his throat. “No, not at all. You know, this condo was going to be a surprise for you for Christmas?”
“What do you mean?”
“Valentin and Susan didn’t have a place here.
If they needed to come to Mexico, they would rent a house.
But Max changed that not too long before the car accident, which I think he must have mentioned in his journal.
He never said anything to me specifically but I believe he planned on telling you everything and surprising you with this condo, a place you could come to anytime you wanted.
And the home would give Max a base to work out of here in Mexico. ”
Regan gulped a shaky breath, tears threatening his eyes. “This place was supposed to be my birthday present, but I had a bad week, and I wasn’t the easiest to be around,” Regan whispered. “I messed his birthday surprise up.”
“No,” Lutin said. “That wasn’t the only reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“The condo was supposed to be finished for your birthday, and yes he changed his plans, but not because of your mood. There were issues with the construction and the move in. I came to check on the location and finalize everything, but the condo wasn’t ready and wouldn’t be until after the New Year.
That’s the thing about new builds in Mexico—they always take longer than expected. So, Max decided to hold off.”
“He was going to make this place my Christmas gift for the following year.”
Lutin nodded. “Yes, he figured he didn’t want to rush, in case there were more holdups. The condo delay wasn’t because of you.”
“I didn’t ruin things?” Regan’s voice rose as did his mood. He had no idea about the weight he carried on his shoulders because of the birthday entry in Max’s journal.
“No.” Lutin beamed.
“If only we could have made it to Christmas. Why’d he have to die?”
“I don’t know.” Lutin reached out and rested a hand on Regan’s shoulder. “The universe is a cruel mistress sometimes.”
“Is that why you wanted to bring me here last?”
Lutin squeezed Regan’s shoulder. “That and because there really are some great places to eat.”
“You can eat?” Regan swiped at his eyes.
“Yes. How else would I stay alive?” Lutin offered a quizzical albeit snarky glance. “You can’t eat magic.”
Regan snorted. “No, I guess you can’t.”
“Come on. Let’s get some food. I think you’ve earned a solid lunch.”
They made their way out of the condo and down the street, toward the old town area housing all the bars and restaurants.
The warm afternoon air filling Regan was a peace and a joy he hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
Lutin clearly knew the area and where he was going, and Regan was surprised by all the expats that called this place their home.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn he was back home in San Jose, but there was a better view and less traffic.
They climbed the steps as Lutin waved at the bartender and they quickly found a table near the large open-air windows.
“What do you think?” Lutin asked as he sat down. The sunlight hit him in such a way that emphasized all that was handsome about the man, Witch, Fae, whatever.
Regan blinked several times, helping his eyes adjust and to push his thoughts on Lutin’s looks to the side. “Smells and looks great.” He rested his hands on the table, glad he was only wearing a short-sleeve shirt and jeans. He didn’t think he could have stood to be in anything warmer.
In short order a friendly, and chatty, waiter came by to drop off menus, water, and silverware.
Regan reviewed the menu, deciding to go for the chicken enchiladas—they seemed to call to him.
Unsure what to expect from Lutin, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he ordered shrimp tacos with a margarita over ice to wash the meal down. Regan stuck to bottled water.
As he enjoyed the silence and the smells of the sea and the food, images of Regan with Max on one of their many vacations filled his mind.
As he sat back, the ache in his heart lessened as his breath came easier and the tension in his shoulders and neck lessened.
How long since he felt like a real person?
He glanced across the table to Lutin, not feeling the need to fill the void with idle conversation.
They had a shared pain—in a way, they both knew Max, and from everything he witnessed in the short time they knew each other, he believed that Lutin missed Max as much as he did.
And in an odd sort of way, that brought him a comfort he hadn’t known since before Max’s death.
Maybe Lutin is right. I need to move on and finally let Max go.