“You called Daray’s father to you?”
“I don’t know who all came, but there was a bunch of them. They was already swimming to shore to do what they could, then they saw me. And I told them I knew where the oil could go. They made me promise to sink the ship, and never ever let anything like that happen again. I promised, Cass, and kept that promise. Till a few days ago, when the Walter Aggie started leaking all over again.”
“The Walter Aggie’s not leaking,” Cassie said. “They brought you here to kill you with the rest of us.”
“What are you talking about, darling?”
“The selkies,” she said, “they finally figured out what you did. And they want their revenge, Walters. On all of us. But mostly on you. The woman who called you, she’s a selkie, educated on land. She knows all that stuff you thought they’d never know. And more.”
Gabriel took another step toward them. “Let her go, Mr. Walters, and I’ll make sure that nothing’ll happen to either of you. I’m Gabriel Schelling. I’m the sheriff here. You were supposed to meet with me anyway.”
“This ain’t your fight, son,” Walters said. “Back off.”
Gabriel had given Cassie the moment she had needed. She finally had a plan.
“Let me go, Spark,” she said, “and I’ll show you that conversation I just had with Roseluna. You’ll see it just like we saw the night on the Devil’s Goblet. You’ll see what they’re trying to do.”
“You did what?” Walters asked.
“Your granddaughter did it,” Lyssa said, her mouth curled with distaste. “I had no clue that she got some of her powers from you. If you had just said something—”
“I already told you,” Walters said, spitting as he spoke. Cassie could feel his hatred for her daughter as if it were a live thing. “I didn’t want my son to marry you. I did everything I could to stop it.”
“Maybe if you had explained—”
“Your grandmother could have explained,” Walters said. “Obviously, she didn’t either.”
Lyssa looked at Athena who bowed her head. Cassie was losing her moment. She could feel it. And this might be her only chance.
“It’s too late for accusations. It’s the selkies that are the problem. Spark, I can show you—”
“I thought only Emily could show me.”
So he knew his granddaughter’s name. Had he been keeping track of her? Probably. He struck Cassie as the kind of man who would keep track of everything that concerned him—even when he said he wasn’t.
“Where do you think she learned how?” Cassie asked. “It’s easier if I put a finger on each temple.”
Athena’s mouth opened, then closed, as if she thought the better of saying anything. Emily put her hands over her lips, a gesture that seemed involuntary.
Only Lyssa didn’t move. Lyssa was watching Cassie as if she had never seen her before.
“That didn’t happen with the previous vision,” Walters said. “No one touched me.”
“Because it was the three of us—Emily, me, and Mother. It was like a live broadcast. But this is just me. Unless you want Emily closer.”
That last was a bluff. Cassie didn’t want Emily any closer at all, and she had a hunch he didn’t either.
“No,” he said, and he loosened his grip on her, tentatively, as if he were afraid she was going to attack him again.
But her fists weren’t the strongest thing about her. Cassie had never had real physical abilities, not like her mother. But it wasn’t physical strength that mattered anymore.
That was why the selkies were trying to neutralize her. They feared her mind, not her body.
She turned in Walters’s arms, a parody of a lover’s move. His face, its redness and fleshiness still shocking to her, seemed impassive. But his eyes were alive. They held a reservation and maybe even fear.
He wasn’t the only one who could hide his emotions. She gave him a small smile, the one she gave tourists to calm them when she did her fake readings.
Then she put her index fingers on his temples. If she moved slightly, put her thumbs there, she could push...
But she didn’t. Instead, she said, just as softly as she had smiled, “Ready?”
“This isn’t some kind of weird revenge, is it?” he said. “Because if it is, then—”
“Selkies,” she said. “We take care of them first. Then we figure out what to do about you.”
A bit too much anger escaped through her voice, and he pulled back, but she caught him with both hands and held his head firmly.
He tried to yank away, and she held, but she wouldn’t be able to work him.
Then Athena’s hands covered her own, slipping past them to the back of his head so that Athena wasn’t touching Cassie at all.
“Now, daughter,” Athena said.
And Cassie closed her eyes, sending her consciousness into his brain, drilling a hole as she went, separating his powers—and he had a few, mostly parasitical, piggybacking on other people’s—learned at his own father’s knee. That ability, the secret to Walters Petroleum, the secret to their empire, their ability to use other people’s powers as if they were Walters’ own.
He reached for her in that moment, but she slipped past him, separating his thoughts from his abilities—at least that was what she hoped she was doing, mostly to protect herself.
Then she found the spot she was looking for. Scientists didn’t know what this part of the brain did—the portion unused, they said—but it wasn’t. It was a tiny area that kept the past and the present separate.
She poured her memories into that spot, the memory that had haunted her, the one that had made her collapse—the storm, finding Daray’s body, the fear, the horrible, horrible fear that he had never loved her, that she wasn’t worthy of love, that she had never been worthy of love—she sent those memories there, the emotions there, and then broke the barrier between past and present.
Walters would live with those feelings, as if they were happening now, as if they always happened.
The worst moment of her life, and now it was the worst moment of his, made personal, made into something he could feel—forever—unable to stop the pain, unable to block it, unable to do anything about that.
For the rest of his life, those feelings would be his reality. Just like they had been hers all the way up until now.
He stopped struggling against her. She backed out, feeling lighter.
Athena covered Cassie’s hands with her own, and then eased her away from Walters. He stayed in the same position, his gaze on her, his eyes filling with tears.
“What did you do?” he asked. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” she said, lying, not for him, but for the people around them. “Once I got close, I found I couldn’t do anything at all.”
Forty-Five
Anchor Harbor Wayside
But her mother had done something. Spark Walters’ eyes were different, more vulnerable, filled with some kind of pain.
Lyssa had never seen him like that before. He looked diminished somehow, as if he were being hollowed from the inside out.
He put a hand to his chest, then took a single step backward toward the limousine. With his other hand, he felt the roof, then the seat, and slid back inside.
“Mr. Walters?” the woman with the suit asked. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he said, his voice trembling. “Just fine. All I need is a minute.”
Cassie slipped her arm around Athena. They walked toward Emily, going past Lyssa.
“What did I miss?” Gabriel asked.
“I don’t know,” Lyssa said. She truly didn’t. She had never seen her mother do anything to harm anyone before. Her mother had never cared enough.
But the entire attack on Walters, and then the way her mother had talked him into letting her touch his mind, all of that had been new.
What was it Athena had said? Someone had tried to disable Cassie not once, but twice.
Which meant that Cas
sie had powers few knew about, and some feared.
“Don’t you think it’s odd,” Lyssa said, “that Walters is here, and that Roseluna person tried to hurt Mother, and the exodus happened from the sea? All of it right now?”
“Like something is going to happen,” Gabriel said. “But what?”
“Before that storm in Whale Rock,” Denne said, “the selkies made sure no humans were near the ocean. They destroyed fishing boats, left warnings—kept everyone they thought innocent away from the various crime scenes. The selkies knew what was coming, and they were making sure only the people who deserved to be hurt were.”
Lyssa shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “But they didn’t clear out the refuge.”
“No,” Denne said.
“So this is going to be different,” she said.
“They’re also not warning any humans,” Gabriel said. “So they must think we’re guilty of something. But what?”
“The death of Lyssa’s father?” Denne asked.
Lyssa shook her head. “If that was the case, then they might have attacked long ago. It’s got to do with the oil too.”
“Athena said that your mother spoke to Roseluna at lunch,” Denne said. “Maybe your family was warned.”
Lyssa looked at her family. Cassie and Athena were huddled together in a way that she had never seen them before. They seemed close, which they had never been.
Emily was watching them, her little head upturned, a look of longing on her face. For the first time, Cassie was ignoring her granddaughter—and that too made Lyssa uneasy.
Then she glanced around. Walters was still in his limousine, clutching the sides of the door as if they were all that held him upright. His assistants were clustered in a group, talking, seemingly uncertain about what to do. Only the female assistant stood by him, crouched in front of the door, talking to him, like a mother talking to a child.
Lyssa shuddered. She didn’t want to know exactly what her mother had done.
Then Lyssa looked across the highway. The reporter was still there, talking with a few bystanders. Maybe the entire area had seen that broadcast from Athena’s mind, not just the people in the wayside. Maybe the cameraman had even caught it on film.
Lyssa wasn’t sure what that would mean for Walters or for his company—how could you prosecute a man based on visionary evidence?—but she really didn’t care.
He had murdered her father, if that vision was to be believed. No wonder he had so adamantly opposed her marriage to Reginald. Had Reginald known? He had married Lyssa in part to spite his father, but had he really known how deep his father’s involvement with the Buckinghams had been? After all, Reginald had been a few years old when Walters had traveled to Anchor Bay. Had Reginald known something was wrong when his father returned? Had he heard old stories?
Lyssa sighed. She would never know. Reginald was dead, and Walters would never tell her.
“Do you think they’re going to cause another storm?” Gabriel asked Denne.
“The selkies? With the kind of sacrifice it requires?” Denne shook his head. “I have no idea. Killing yourself for a goal is antithetical to who we are. Maybe it’s who they are.”
“No, it’s not,” Lyssa said. “Human cultures have initiated suicide attacks for centuries. And the selkies don’t need a suicide. Spark Walters over there proved that. Just kill an unwanted member of the tribe. That would be more than enough.”
“But we have warning now. A storm like that wouldn’t destroy Anchor Bay,” Gabriel said.
“Probably should evacuate the school just in case,” Denne said. “The last time all the destruction was down here. I would imagine that’s where it would be again.”
Lyssa frowned. All of this was well and good, but it still didn’t answer the mystery of the exodus.
She crossed the parking lot toward her mother, daughter, and grandmother. Emily saw her first and ran toward her, slamming her body into Lyssa’s, stopping her from going farther.
“What’s going on, babe?” Lyssa asked, putting her hand in Emily’s hair.
“Grandma doesn’t want to talk to me,” Emily said.
“I can imagine she doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now.” Lyssa had seen that rage come out of her mother. It had been fierce. Lyssa just felt numb. She hadn’t known her father, and she had just gone through two different theories of his death in the space of an hour.
“It’s not like that,” Emily said. “I don’t think she likes me anymore.”
Lyssa bent down and picked up Emily as if she were three again. Emily let her. Her daughter’s too thin body was shaking. She couldn’t take more rejection, especially from the grandmother who, until fifteen minutes ago, had doted on her.
Emily was a lot heavier than a three-year-old. It took most of Lyssa’s strength to carry her toward Cassie and Athena.
“Gabriel thinks the selkies are planning an attack of some kind,” Lyssa said. “Some kind of storm.”
Cassie gave Emily a wild look. “Ask your daughter.”
Emily had her arm wrapped around the back of Lyssa’s neck. Her other hand was braced on Lyssa’s shoulder. “Great-Aunt Roseluna said she was going to destroy Anchor Bay. At lunch. But Grandma heard it too.”
“What’s going on, Mother?” Lyssa asked. “If you knew about this attack, why aren’t you doing anything about it?”
“Leave her alone, Lysandra,” Athena said. “She’s had a shock.”
“So what we saw is what happened,” Lyssa said. “You watched Spark Walters kill my father, and then you let me marry into the Walters family.”
“It’s not that simple,” Athena said. “And I didn’t just watch. I thought I had killed Walters myself.”
“But you knew the next day, when he showed up again, that you hadn’t.”
“Actually, no,” Athena said. “I didn’t know until the village agreed to have the Walter Aggie towed out to sea and sunk, with the rest of her oil inside her. He was at the meeting. He actually tipped that goddamn cowboy hat at me. I talked to Sheriff Lowery and told him that Spark had killed Daray, and Lowery told me that even if what I saw had happened, which it couldn’t have since Spark was still alive, even if—Cassie had already reported Daray as a suicide, and since she was his wife, her word held.”
Cassie gave Athena a sideways look.
“But you didn’t do anything.” Lyssa didn’t know where her vehemence was coming from. She had thought she was numb.
“What could I do, Lys? The sheriff refused to arrest him. I couldn’t kill him—supposedly we’re a civilized society.”
“So you let him go home to Texas—”
“Yes, and raise Reginald, and everything else that happened. I couldn’t do anything else,” Athena said.
“You could have told me. You could have told Mother.”
“And have Cassie kill him? Lose her in the attempt? We had you to think about, Lysandra. Remember that.”
“I do,” Lyssa said. “You thought so much of me that you let me marry Reginald Walters.”
“I couldn’t have stopped you without hurting your mother.” Athena sighed. “I figured Walters would stop you, but his opposition had the effect I was afraid mine would. It just made you two want each other more.”
Lyssa blinked hard, feeling tears threaten. She didn’t want to feel them. She didn’t want to feel anything.
“Besides,” Athena said, “you don’t regret the marriage. It gave you Emily.”
Lyssa glanced at her grandmother. Athena was looking with actual worry at Cassie, and Lyssa finally understood why. Cassie should have said that. She always defended Lyssa’s marriage by citing Emily.
But she didn’t now.
“What’s going on, Mother?” Lyssa asked again.
“Ask your daughter,” Cassie repeated.
“I did, and she doesn’t have a clue. Tell us. What are you afraid of?”
Cassie looked at Emily. Cassie’s expression was cold.
“I
heard her, Roseluna, tell you to join them,” Cassie said to Emily. “And you did, didn’t you? That’s why the vision came up. You did it to separate us, to make me hate Mother, to make me attack Spark. That’s why, right?”
Emily tightened her grip on Lyssa. “Mommy?”
“It’s okay,” Lyssa said. She slid her daughter down to her legs, then pushed Emily behind her. This was what she had always expected, that she would have to defend her daughter against the world.
Even against her own family.
“My daughter isn’t Machiavelli, Mother,” Lyssa said. “She has no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then let her answer,” Cassie said.
“No,” Lyssa said.
“You know what happened,” Athena said. “We saw it earlier. The vision didn’t spring up until you took Emily’s hand. She was already holding mine, and I was remembering. That memory is one of my strongest, Cassandra, and it came again when I saw Spark Walters. There’s no conspiracy here. Only truth, maybe for the first time between us.”
“But Mother doesn’t like the truth,” Lyssa said. “She likes to pretend that everything is happy and pretty, even when she knows otherwise. I was never the perfect daughter, Mother, and you certainly weren’t a perfect Mom.”
“Lys,” Athena said. “Your mother was right about Daray, and I was wrong. He loved her. Even at the end, he was defending her.”
Cassie’s eyes filled with tears.
“But Mother didn’t believe that when she was telling me about him. She thought he had abandoned her. She thought he had killed her friends and tried to kill her—”
“He was your father, Lyssa,” Cassie said, her voice so low that Lyssa had to strain to hear it. “What was I supposed to do? Tell you how awful he was?”
“Maybe that would have been better,” Lyssa said.
“But it would have been wrong,” Athena said. She reached out, took the hands of her daughter and her granddaughter. “The selkies want us to fight each other. Think about it, Cassandra. They keep trying to immobilize you because you’re our power source, our beacon. You make all of us stronger. But if you’re weak, you weaken us.”
Fantasy Life Page 38