Page 22 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

The conversation drifts elsewhere after that—storms, the harbor, the damaged wards, the missing fishermen. Yet even as we talk, one conclusion keeps forming. The storm wasn't random. The Sea Sparrow wasn't random. The damaged wards aren't random. Someone is doing this deliberately, carefully, and if that's true, then whoever is responsible is counting on people blaming Reina instead.

I focus toward the window, toward the sea, toward the waters that nearly killed me. Then I look back at Reina. "No more waiting."

She blinks. "What?"

I sit up straighter, ignoring the protest from my lungs. "I'm investigating this properly."

A frown appears. "You nearly died."

"Which makes me more motivated."

"That isn't how motivation works."

"It is for me," I say. The answer earning an exasperated look that I take as encouragement. Reina clearly disagrees.

Unfortunately, I've already made up my mind. The storm tried to kill me. The town is chasing the wrong suspect. And somewhere beneath all of it sits the truth.

I intend to find it, no matter how deep I have to dig.

9

REINA

Ispend the entire morning trying not to think about him …Finn Blackwater. The effort fails spectacularly. Every time I convince myself I've finally regained control of my thoughts, something reminds me of him—the deep rasp of his voice, the stubborn set of his jaw whenever he disagrees with something, the way his storm-gray eyes settle on me as though he actually sees me. Not the storm witch. Not the lighthouse keeper. Not the woman people whisper about when they think I can't hear them.

Me.

The realization alone is enough to spike my pulse. I stand at the lighthouse window and stare toward the harbor while the bond hums quietly beneath my skin, present, persistent, impossible to ignore. I hate that. Not because Finn has done anything wrong, but because the bond doesn't care what I want. It doesn't care about caution, or fear, or common sense. It certainly doesn't care that I've spent most of my life learning not to expect people to stay.

A knock sounds below, and my heart immediately leaps Annoying. Deeply annoying. The knock comes again, and the certainty of knowing who it is somehow makes everything worse. When I reach the door, I've almost convinced myself to act normal.

Almost.

Finn stands on the other side, the sight of him sending a familiar rush through my chest as his gaze immediately finds mine. The connection sparks, warm, bright, dangerous, and for a brief moment, we remain silent.

"You look tired," Finn says.

"Good morning to you too."

A corner of his mouth lifts. "That was my version of good morning."

"It needs work."

"Fair," he says, the smile reaching his eyes this time, and my pulse becomes entirely unhelpful.

Finn glances toward the cliffs. "I was thinking about those damaged wards."

"I was hoping you came to discuss something less frustrating."

"Like what?" he asks, and I immediately regret asking the question that led us here, because the look that appears on his face makes me suspicious

"You're smiling."

"So are you."

I stop smiling. Finn laughs, the sound settling warmly inside my chest, which is exactly the sort of thing I don't need. I step aside.

"Did you actually come here for a reason?"