The Shadow of Mist, Page 2

  I tried to imagine what it would be like to find myself in the grips of a shark. Fast. It would be over soon, though I’d be alone. Could I do it? Face dying by myself? I could live without my Pod, become a rogue—that I knew I was capable of. But a painful and bloody death alone in the night sea? The thought was more than I could bear.

  No, I couldn’t do it. I’d always be wondering when and where the end would come, because selkies on their own didn’t last long. And if the Finfolk got hold of me, it would be worse.

  As I stood there, ankle-deep in the water, another thought crept into my mind. There was one option I’d overlooked. I could end it now. Walk into the sea in human form. Drowning was easy—just let the breath go and close my eyes as I drifted in the arms of the Ocean Mother. Everything would be over . . . all the worry, all the fear of disappointing everyone.

  Marrying Terrance was out of the question, and my parents had effectively handed me over to him. Life alone at sea was too dangerous. I couldn’t stay in the city—Terrance would find me. I couldn’t go home to the Orkneys—he’d follow me there, too.

  Dazed and feeling betrayed, I slowly began to wade into the water, the skirts of my dress floating on the surface as the chill hit me to the core. Even in June, the water was cold. As I breathlessly made my way in up to my knees, my toes curled around the silt and I reveled in the feel of the soft, wet sand.

  A loud, resounding noise startled me out of my thoughts and I jerked my gaze across the cove. An ocean liner was pulling into port, returning from America, no doubt, where thousands of emigrants were flocking in hopes of better days and a life that might promise something other than poverty and starvation. Fresh starts and new beginnings. That’s what they hope for.

  For a moment, I dismissed the gigantic hull of a boat from my mind, but then . . . I looked at it again. Queenstown—or Cobh, as it had been known for centuries before some idiot human had renamed it after the queen—was an integral port to the world. And now, as I gazed at the ship, an idea began to form. What if I was on that boat when it sailed? The liner would leave soon—they were sailing quickly, to meet the demand. What if I booked passage on the Umbria and simply vanished into a new life?

  My stomach quivered. I’d be leaving my family, leaving my home for a distant shore to . . . What future did I have in America? Any future you want to make. The thought echoed as I turned the idea over in my mind. I couldn’t really do this. Could I?

  But if I didn’t . . . Terrance’s face loomed large in my thoughts again and I began to shake. I couldn’t let him touch me again.

  “I want you,” he’d said, reaching out to stroke my cheek.

  I darted away from him. Something about him made my skin crawl. I’d shaken off his hand when he tried to hold mine, but his fingers on my face felt so much more invasive. I’d gone on the walk with him only because my father insisted that I get out of the house. Get some fresh air, he’d said.

  “Terry, I don’t feel that way about you.” I tried to lighten my words in order to take away the sting, but no matter how I said it, it was a rejection. “I’m stubborn, my family says. I honestly don’t know what I want but I’m not really looking for marriage right now.”

  Not exactly the truth, but close enough. I was looking for love, but only with the right person. I was looking for a man who made my heart beat faster, who made my pulse race and my breath catch in my throat because I wanted him more than I wanted anybody or anything else.

  Terry snorted. “You don’t have to feel the same way.” As he moved closer, I danced to the other side, wading through the knee-deep grass that ran along the side of the cliff overlooking the harbor.

  “Look—the ships are coming into port.” I tried to change the subject, calculating the distance between us as I darted out of his reach. There was something in his eyes that made me want to run home and lock the door behind me. He was ruthless, a man who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

  “You don’t have to love me. I don’t care. I want you, Siobhan Morgan, and you’re a fool if you refuse me. I can give you everything. I can give you riches and security. I can make you a princess. And I can protect your family. All you have to do is obey me. That’s all I ask in return.”

  I kept my mouth shut. My family was coming off a rough spot. Six years ago, we’d been forced to leave our home in the Orkneys because there wasn’t enough to eat—even the sea had turned fickle on us. We’d come to Queenstown and found a house. My brothers had found work on the docks and my mother took in washing. My father mostly drank. We kept to ourselves and managed to survive. But life was still hard, and my mother’s back was always sore.

  I tried to imagine accepting his offer. What he could do for our family . . . But another look in his eyes squelched any thought I had of saying yes. My heart was pounding out a warning. Terry wasn’t safe. He reminded me of the Finfolk, a deadly and treacherous man.

  “No, thank you.” I let out a long sigh. “But I appreciate the offer.” Not good to make one of the Pod royalty angry.

  He let out a sharp laugh and jumped forward, grabbing my wrist.

  “Then we’re into the chase,” he said, his face red. I could feel the waves of excitement rolling off him and I stumbled, trying to get away. But Terry was heavier and taller than I, and before I could break his grasp, he knocked me to the ground and landed on top of me. As he pushed up my skirts, his hands fumbling along my thighs, his eyes gleamed.

  “I’m glad you said no,” he whispered. “I like a challenge.”

  I began to scream, but he clapped his hand over my mouth and gave me a wicked grin. “Now, now, you wouldn’t want that sweet little brother of yours to go missing . . . to become shark food, would you?”

  As his meaning echoed in my thoughts, I closed my eyes and thought of the sea. She was always there, and she would cleanse me and heal me when he was done. But Terry didn’t want me to miss out on the fun, and as he drove himself into me, I let out a little cry and realized that no matter how many times I bathed, I’d never get the feel of him off me.

  I parked in front of our house and raced up the stairs. The two-story cottage was modest, but it belonged to Mitch and me, and it was home. As I closed the door behind me, all I could think about was barring the past. I flipped the lock and started to call out for Mitch, but then stopped. He was off on a job. Mitch was a contractor and renovated old houses for a company of property flippers. And one other thing had occurred to me on the way home.

  I’d never told Mitch the truth about my past. At first, I was afraid that if the Puget Sound Harbor Seal Pod discovered that I’d been engaged to Terry, they might make me return home and face the consequences. Then, after Mitch and I found out about our daughter, it seemed a moot point.

  I forced myself into the kitchen where I put the kettle on and grabbed the chamomile tea, fumbling to get the bags out of the box. I had to calm down, to think clearly. As I slid into a chair at the table, waiting for the kettle to whistle, I pulled out my cell phone. Terrance’s number came up as blocked.

  So, point number one: I had no idea where he was, but he knew where I was. At least, he knew my phone number.

  Point number two: He wanted me back, which meant I wasn’t safe. And another little matter to consider: What would he do when he found out I was pregnant with another man’s child? But even as I asked myself the question, I knew the answer. Terrance would take out his anger by forcing me to miscarry. I knew him. He was the prince of his people. And when dealing with royalty, especially in the Supe Community, bloodlines were everything. He wouldn’t want another man’s child crowding out his own.

  I glanced at the clock as I moved to pour my tea. I couldn’t tell Mitch, not until I knew how I was going to handle this. He’d freak out. He’d have to know at some point, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized he’d go off half-cocked and get himself hurt.

  And I didn’t dare go to the Pod for help—not yet. Most likely they’d protect me, but I’d been a
problem for them over the years because I couldn’t conceive and Mitch was in love with me. They’d tried to break us up so he could move on to another woman who could bear his children. We were together only by the grace of my unborn daughter.

  No, there was only one place I could turn. Camille, Delilah, and Menolly D’Artigo were the only women I knew who wouldn’t hesitate to set Terrance straight. Taking a deep breath, I punched in their number and counted the rings until they picked up.

  2

  As the steel gray Lexus pulled to a stop in front of the house, with a Jeep Wrangler right behind it, I sucked in a deep breath. Camille and Delilah were here. I glanced back at the phone. Mitch was supposed to call. He was due home late and he always called to let me know how long he would be. His crew had gotten wrapped up in the restoration of an original fireplace and they wanted to finish it before the week was over. Which meant that he wouldn’t walk in on our conversation.

  I smoothed my dress and looked around the house. We hadn’t even had our official housewarming, and I’d hoped to put off entertaining guests until after the Pod priestess came to bless our new home, but this was too important. Besides, the girls would never bring anything evil with them—at least not wittingly. They were fighting a group of demons trying to break through the portals to take over both Earth and Otherworld, and I was content to sit back and let them handle it.

  The doorbell rang and I let them in, motioning to the living room.

  “I don’t know how much time I have before Mitch gets home,” I said. “He’s going to be late, but I want to take care of this before he gets here, if you don’t mind.” I rubbed my arms, feeling chilly even though I’d turned up the heat.

  “What’s shaking, babe?” Camille, the oldest, looked like a raven-haired cross between a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism and an S and M bar’s madame. A real vixen. Delilah, a six-one lean, athletic, golden blond werecat, followed her in. Their sister Menolly couldn’t make it, though. She was a vampire and wasn’t up before sunset.

  “How do I begin?” I turned to them, biting my lip. How was I going to stand here and tell my good friends that I’d lied to them from the beginning, even though the lie was for self-protection. Deciding that it would be like pulling teeth—better to just yank it than try to wriggle it out—I sucked in a deep breath, and then everything spilled out in a rush.

  Delilah stared at me, a dumbfounded look on her face. She slowly leaned forward, her motorcycle boots heavy on the floor as she rested her elbows on the denim covering her knees. “You mean you weren’t sent over to the United States because of inbreeding?”

  “Not really.” I shook my head. “I ran away. I spent the entire trip terrified that someone had slipped on board behind me and would drag me over the side and back home. But nothing happened. By the time I got to Ellis Island, I realized that I’d actually done it. I escaped.”

  “And your parents were going to marry you off to a rapist? How sick can you get? Although . . .” Camille glanced at Delilah and snorted, “It sure sounds like some of the families back in Otherworld. We’ve got no use for people like that. You were brave to run away.”

  “Brave? Maybe. But not wise enough to cover my tracks once I set out for the West Coast. Hell, some of the states were still barely coming to grips with being states. The cities here were rough-and-tumble, unlike the cities back east. I didn’t think anybody would ever be able to find me and as the years wore on, I grew careless.” I jumped up and paced, too nervous to sit. “But now Terrance has found me and I’m terrified.”

  “Try to remember everything he said on the phone. I take it you don’t have his number?”

  I shook my head. “He has call block.”

  “Great. Okay, so we go from there.” Camille motioned to Delilah, who pulled out her laptop and fired it up so she could take notes. “We need to know everything about Terrance. About you running away, and the Pod you ran from. You wouldn’t happen to have any pictures of him, would you?”

  “No, but if he looks the same as he did back then, I can describe him. I look close to what I looked like back then, so there’s no reason he shouldn’t as well. Though I do dye my hair because I like this color, and I wear makeup now. That was a big no no back then.”

  “Okay, ready. Give me a description of what he looked like the last time you saw him,” Delilah said, her fingers poised over the keys.

  I closed my eyes and thought back to the last time I’d seen Terry. It had been the day before our wedding, and he’d been angry. Very angry.

  “What do you mean, you want to move back the wedding date?” Terry’s eyes flickered, his black hair gleaming under the early-morning sun. The mist was burning off the cove and it looked like we were in for a nice day.

  “I thought we could hold off. At least until the solstice. I’d like to be married on a holiday,” I said, striving for some reasonable explanation. My goal: Put him off long enough to gather the money I needed for the boat ticket.

  “Not going to happen,” he said. “Tomorrow we marry, and then you’re mine. All mine. Your family will move out of that shack, and you’ll move into my house. Into my bed,” he added, leering.

  A goose walked over my grave and I shivered, wrapping my arms around my shoulders. “Terry, it’s just another couple of weeks. Why are you so angry? You’re going to get what you want, so why deny me this? Consider it a wedding present.” I forced myself to look compliant and lowered my eyes so he couldn’t read what I was really thinking.

  But he reached out and placed his finger under my chin, tipping my head up to look me square in the face.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said softly, leaning close. “I don’t believe you for a second. I know how you feel about me and what you think of marrying me. What you don’t seem to understand is that your feelings don’t matter. I want you and I’m going to have you. You’ll adjust, and in the meantime, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself. Trust me,” he whispered, his lips bare inches from mine. “You’ll love every moment of every night.”

  I pulled away, trying to keep my balance, but he was a tall man and broad-shouldered, with a narrow waist. As was the nature of the roane, his hair was jet-black, wavy and curling around his ears. A scar was the one blemish he had—a jagged cut on his throat that had come from when a shark had caught him by the neck. His kinsmen had swum in to save him, one of them losing his life in the process. But Terry had survived and healed up, with just the scar to remind him. Seal or human, it remained in both his forms.

  I drank in the sight of him, wanting to remember his face when I was long gone and this was all like a bad dream. Terrance would be my reminder that evil sometimes wore a very pleasant body.

  “Fine. We wed tomorrow,” I said and pulled away. “Now leave me be. I have to start my preparations for the handfasting.”

  As I walked away, I forced myself to focus on the fact that I’d never have to look at him again. Never have to talk to him, listen to him, endure his touch. But to escape, I’d have to steal the money. I’d hoped to put off the wedding until I could sell a few things to earn my passage fare, but there wasn’t time.

  By the time I reached our house, everyone was gone. Like a common thief, I raided the secret stashes where my parents and brothers kept their money, ending up with a handful of change above and beyond the cost of my ticket.

  I packed two satchels. The journey would be lean and cold until I found a home and a job, so most of what I took were clothes, food, and a few toiletries. I stopped, though, when I came to my mother’s photo box. The pictures were expensive, but my mother had managed to afford a photograph of the entire family, and she had three copies of it. I pressed the photograph to my lips, kissing it gently, then slid the picture inside my satchel, in between two small books to keep it flat and unharmed.

  After that, I tucked a small vial of sand from the Orkney’s shores into my handbag, along with my seal skin. I’d brought the sand with me to Queenstown, and I’d take it with me
to America.

  As soon as I was finished packing, I scribbled a hasty farewell.

  Dear Ma and Da,

  I cannot go through with the marriage. I simply can’t marry Terrance. I know you don’t understand. I know you feel I let down the Pod and I expect you’ll hate me for it. Please, don’t bother looking for me, and don’t let Terrance look for me either. You won’t find me. Consider me dead if you like. I resign my ties to the Pod. I shall miss you all. As for Terrance, he can rot in the blackest depths of the sea and I would rejoice. Give my brothers lots of love.

  —Siobhan

  I hurried toward the port and an hour later, ticket in hand, I was bustling up the gangplank. The Umbria was about to set sail and I’d secured one of the last seats. It would be an uncomfortable crossing, but in less than three weeks I’d walk off the boat, into a new life.

  As the ship’s horn sounded and we slowly pulled away from shore, I resolutely walked to the front of the boat. With images of my family flickering through my mind, I kept my eyes on the open water as we headed out to sea.

  I looked at Camille. Her eyes were filled with sorrow and I realized that they understood. They knew why I’d lied to them. Why I’d hid behind a layer of half-truths and veiled deceptions. But still . . . I had to ask.

  “Can you forgive me for lying to you?”

  Delilah slowly hit the Save button on her file of notes. Then she called up Google and did a search on his name to see if we could find any pictures on the Web, but there were none. Pressing her lips together, she held out her hand and drew me down to sit in the chair between her and her sister.

  “We understand. And Menolly . . . she’ll probably understand best of all,” she said softly. “The question is, what do we do now? Does he have the right to demand you head home with him? Is there any way he could make it stick? By human rights he can’t do a damned thing to you—but the Supe Community might see it otherwise. They couldn’t force you to go, but they could stand by and do nothing while he took you. Or make life miserable if you refused.”