by Jami Gray
Mulcahy leaned forward and captured Maris’s face in his hands, holding her still. “Hush, baby girl. Your daddy won’t be mad, he’ll be proud you did what your mom said to do.”
“But I shouldn’t have left her!” The little girl’s wail echoed through the small cabin. Outside, the storm paused as if taking a breath and then charged back in, stronger than before. The lights flickered under the onslaught, adding to the eerie sense of being hunted.
Mulcahy ignored it all, focused solely on the terror-stricken child in Raine’s lap. “You did exactly what you should’ve done. Had you stayed, he would have hurt you. Something neither your mom nor your dad would want.”
Raine made a noise at her uncle’s lack of finesse. His gaze flickered to hers, and his sharp headshake cut off her protest before it escaped. His attention dropped back to Maris. “Do you know where your mom is now?”
Maris nodded, the drying strands of hair curling around her face. “In the tower.”
“Tower?” Mulcahy met Raine’s gaze above Maris’s head.
“By the pond,” Maris added. She titled her head back to look at Raine. “Back at the next cove.” She twisted in Raine’s lap and her arm emerged from her blanket to point to the west.
Shaw Island housed a small nunnery and very few residents, but on her way to the cabin, Raine had marked the closest homestead about a mile or so out. There were small buildings cluttered around a pond, but a tower could’ve been tucked away in there. It wasn’t the next cove over, but two. Still with the way the island was laid out, a little girl could get confused, especially in this weather. Considering the strange situation, best if she called on her neighbors now instead of later. No telling how bad of shape Maris’s mom was in, and Raine didn’t want to be the one to break the little girl’s heart.
“Well then, Raine will have to run over there and check it out.” Mulcahy met Raine’s gaze over Maris’s head.
Yep, time to do some neighborhood drop-ins.
The first cove to the west came up empty, so Raine didn’t waste time making her way to where the she noted the buildings earlier. Sure enough, while most of the buildings remained dark, one small home was nestled under the shadow of an attached stone tower, a dull glow behind the covered windows.
Under the cover of the storm, she managed to get up close to the weathered boards of the structure. Protected from the rain by the hood of her black slicker, she hunched next to the rickety planks of the porch, ignoring the chill. Instead, her focus was on the leakage of light seeping around the metal slats of the cheap blinds covering the window. Filtering out the wailing wind, the chittering rain, and the hissing waves, she strained to lock on to some sign of life. Minutes dragged by with no shadows playing peek-a-boo with the light and no rasp of movement emerging from within.
Instead of creeping closer, she made her way around the back of the small structure until she could see the tower rising like a dark finger against the sky. There were slits high up, near the roof, but it was too dark to tell how big those openings were. Better to use the door. Maybe. Her other option? Climb up and hope for the best. Tilting her head back she considered the rain-slicked stones. Yeah, not really a smart move. Door it was then.
Dividing her attention between the tower and the cottage, she located the heavy wooden door with the shiny, new lock. Picking the little sucker would take time, and she hadn’t exactly brought her tools with her. Instead, she only had her blades, because who needed an arsenal when you went on vacation? If Gavin was here, he could’ve made quick work of the pesky piece. She was limited to kicking the door in or something equally noisy. Since she was on her own and had no idea who or what she was facing, best to be cautious.
Prowling around the base of the tower, she considered. A new lock meant there was something worth hiding in the tower, and chances were that’s where she’d find Maris’s mom. Ignoring the storm’s lash she began to cull through various ways to get through the thick door.
She could use her knife and break the lock. Probably better than trying to scale the slick stone surface. However doing that would warn whoever was inside to her presence, which might not be smart. With no idea of who or what she was facing, it would be better to go in quietly or with the edge of surprise on her side. Considering the weather, knocking on the door with an offer of Girl Scout cookies wouldn’t cut it.
Coming around the tower’s far side, a wink of a light in the distance froze her in place. Dropping into a crouch, she pressed her spine against the wet stone and merged into the surrounding shadows. The light disappeared, then reappeared, and it took a moment for her to identify the sporadic pattern as someone walking with a half-hidden flashlight. Drawing on the animal that shared her skin, she tapped into her leopard’s senses crafted by a mad scientist’s desires.
The night snapped into crystalized focus, banding into reds, greens, and yellows, while every hair on her skin stood at attention in predatory warning of an approaching threat. A sudden lull in the storm’s fury gave her the opportunity to hone in on the soft sound of sand squelching underfoot. Through her unique night vision a form appeared, but it was strange. Instead of the expected red and yellows indicating body heat, it was a combination of blue-tinged yellow and greens.
She blinked once, slowly, but nothing changed. Right then, so definitely not human.
Whoever or whatever it was, continued to make its way to the tower, but based on the pattern of the muted flashlight, they were looking for something. Say, like a little girl? She could feel her lips curl back over her teeth and managed to shut down the soft snarl rumbling in her chest. The storm kicked back into noisy gear as the figure moved forward, and she began to form a nebulous plan.
Her fingers flexed, and she felt the burn as her retractable claws slide forth. Using the freeze frame movements inherent to her cat, she crept around the tower’s base, back toward the door, never taking her attention from the approaching figure. Because of how the cottage was situated against the attached tower, the shadows were heavier on the far side of the door. Using their cover, she coiled the muscles in her thighs and pushed off, going straight up to land lightly on the cottage’s roof. The wood creaked under her weight, and she winced. Hopefully, between the storm and the distance, the noise of her landing wouldn’t be detected. Several careful movements later, she was on her stomach, knife in hand, eyes trained on the figure.
It wasn’t long before she could make out the thick chest and heavily muscled arms plastered by wet cotton and paired with lean legs covered in denim and bare feet. The incongruous sight trigger the memory of another pair of small, bare feet. Besides a frightened child running from monsters, who the hell else would be out in bare feet?
A dark tangle of wet hair obscured the face, but no doubt it was male. One who wasn’t happy considering how he stomped up to the door. In fact, he slammed the heavy wooden door back with a resounding thwack as if pushing back a piece of paper. Some kind of light existed inside, because for a moment, as he did a side-to-side check, it revealed a very inhuman face and glinted strangely off the bare skin of his arms.
Considering the Fey were one of four races making up the Kyn, unnatural beauty wasn’t a shock. But combine sculpted masculinity with a double row of sharp, pointed teeth bared in a silent snarl and shock was a definite reaction. As he stepped more fully inside the door, that weak interior light bounced off his skin, adding an iridescent sheen.
Shark teeth and scaled skin.
What the hell was a Triton doing this far inland? The much fiercer and violent cousin to the Selkies weren’t much for playing on land. And why the hell was he hunting Selkies? Her knowledge of Tritons and Selkies was a little shaky, but she could’ve sworn the pompous nature of the Tritons kept them from pestering those they considered beneath their notice.
Eons ago, Tritons served as servants to the gods and goddesses of the sea, which is what probably started their egotistical belief that they were the top predators of the sea. Considering that mouthful of razo
rs, maybe there were other reasons for it. Still, it didn’t explain why this one was here and terrorizing a mother and child.
His broad back began to move further inside reminding her she didn’t have time to ponder such things. She had one shot to find out what happened when you pit a cat against a fish. Just one.
Muscles coiled, grip solid on the hilt of her knife, claws extended on the other hand, she leapt with single-minded focus. Her impact knocked him forward a few stumbling steps, before he twisted in attempt to smash her into one of the walls.
Her blade sank deep, high in his back, missing her intended target, his spine. Dammit. With no other choice, she raked out with her clawed hand scoring a bloody, diagonal furrow from shoulder to hip. His deep roar shuddered over her ears, but he arched away from the attack, giving her the necessary room to drop to the floor and under his beefy arm swinging her way.
Needing more room to escape being caught between him and the wall, she kicked out. Even before her foot hit, she knew it wouldn’t be enough to disable, the angle was all wrong. Still it was enough to send him off balance and gain her a few more precious feet of freedom so she scramble into the middle of the room, retracting her claws. She slipped her two boot knives free so when she gained her feet, she was armed. With her feet set she faced the pissed off Triton.
“What the fuck?” His question rolled over her carrying the depth of fury found in rough surf.
“I think that’s my question.” She met his gaze, barely controlling her flinch. Color swirled around the rounded slit of his pupil. They changed so fast she couldn’t tell what the colors were, only that they made her stomach churn as if she was falling into a fathomless pit.
She forced her gaze away, keeping her attention focused on the minute movements of his body. They circled each other, weighing strengths and weaknesses. The injuries he sustained didn’t seem to impede his movements, which caused a small niggle of worry. She brushed it aside. She didn’t have time for that shit.
The soft light came from two lanterns hooked high on the walls. The room was bare except for steps curling up into the deeper dark above. The Triton edged toward the steps, and she matched his movements in a strange, lethal dance. The storm picked up strength, and wind and rain pelted her shoulder closest to the doorway. Rain sprayed across the stone floor.
He continued to watch her, never blinking, barely moving. The terse standoff was interrupted by a soft groan of pain drifting from above. It sank into Raine, reminding her why she was there. Her simmering anger flashed white-hot then morphed into a solid core of determination. Maris’s mother was alive, and somehow Raine would make sure she stayed that way.
The Triton’s lips stretched into a nightmarish smile, revealing the double rows of thin, curved saw blades doubling as teeth. “Maris.” The little girl’s name ended in a hiss. “Troublesome git.”
Raine didn’t bother rising to the bait. Let him think what he wanted, she just needed an opening.
He managed another inch closer to the stairs, his movement smooth and deadly. “You shouldn’t get involved in situations you don’t understand, girl. The females are mine.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t work for me.” She mimicked his stillness. He had to move soon, but she didn’t have clue one on how Tritons fought.
Then he gave her one.
There was no twitch of muscle, no tell-a-tale movement or warning. One second he was across from her, the next, his scary ass mouth was going for her stomach and ribs.
Instinct and luck were on her side. She spun, slashing out even as her foot slid through a small puddle of water, knocking her balance off. Her unexpected move meant she escaped his reaching hands, even as her blade carved a deep gash along one of his arms.
Unfortunately, it gave him the perfect opening. His head snapped around and those sharp ass teeth clamped on her arm.
For a moment, she wondered if he missed, then fire sparked along her nerve endings as those curved teeth ground against skin and bone. A burst of caustic iron-rich scent hit air while agonizing fire tore through her arm. Her hand spasmed and the dull thunk of her knife hitting the floor was lost under her sharp scream.
Calculation disappeared under basic survival. Adding any movement with the sawing bite wasn’t smart, but the need for escape trumped rational thought. She dragged her injured arm close, bringing the Triton with her.
Her scream of pain morphed into the feline scream of a leopard as she brought her other hand up, still clutching her last knife, and stabbed it deep into one of those merciless eyes. She twisted the blade, unmindful of the pulpy mess she created. All that mattered was getting her arm free, and the brutal move worked.
The Triton opened his mouth to roar in agony, freeing her mangled arm from his bite. One hand went to cover his eye, the other arm swung out blindly. She managed to stumble back and took the punch on the shoulder of her injured arm instead of her face. Pain lanced her shoulder, only to be replaced by a blessed numbness. There wasn’t much time to enjoy the respite, because he was coming back.
The fight had switched their positions, putting her closer to the stairs and the Triton between her and the door. Outside, lightning struck somewhere close, the flash illuminating the room in bright white. It edged the Triton in black as he began to glide toward her. With her arm out of commission, there was no more time to screw around. This had to end or she wouldn’t be able to keep her promise to Maris.
As he lunged, she harnessed the magic living inside her and directed it to her blade until it was lined with blue-white flames. Committed to his forward movement, the Triton had no option but to follow through. Raine braced her feet, dropped into a crouch and leapt straight up as he barreled into the wall where she had been standing. As she dropped down, her flexible spine twisted, letting her turn in mid-air and land on his back, sinking her blade to the hilt against the base of his skull.
His knees hit the floor, his hands scrambling to reach the blade imbedded in his skull. She let go and stumbled to her feet as the silent flames spread, following her will, licking over his shoulders and up his skull, devouring him with lethal hunger. His screams rose, competing with the wailing winds of the storm now curling around the room. They choked off as he toppled face down to the ground. Rain and ice-edge wind whipped Raine’s hair around her face, but she didn’t look away from the burning form at her feet.
Raine retrieved her blades, tucked them back into place, and dragged her abused body up the stairs. It was time to get Maris’s mom. Each step hurt, but once she tucked her injured arm against her chest, the pain became bearable.
How many damn stairs did this place have? The steps seemed unending, what kept her going were the occasional moans drifting down. Finally, she made it to the top. There was no light, and the slits in high in the stones didn’t help since storm clouds blocked whatever moonlight existed.
“Tachair.” At her soft command for light, a small globe of white popped into existence above her shoulder.
A whimper sounded.
Raine sent the light up, illuminating the room.
Curled back against the far wall on a pile of ragged blankets lay a tangle of limbs and dark hair. Sucking in a bracing breath, Raine cleared her throat and tried for a gentle reassuring tone. “Maris sent me to help.”
The pile jerked, then the mass of tangled hair lifted, revealing solid black eyes ringed in purpling bruises. “Maris is safe?” The words were rough, as if her vocal chords weren’t working correctly.
“She’s safe.” Raine stepped closer and slowly sank to a crouch in front of the battered woman. “My uncle is guarding her.”
“Keep her safe from Kaimana.” The woman struggled to rise, and Raine moved forward trying to help as much as she could with one arm.
Through a combination of stubborn determination and a handful of curses, Raine managed to get the injured woman to sit upright against the wall. “If Kaimana is the Triton downstairs, he’s dead, so no worries there.”
The woman’s body
gave a jerk at her words. “Truly?”
Raine nodded taking in the damage Kaimana wrought on the female before her. Both eyes were bruised, with heavier discoloration along one delicate cheekbone. Her lips were split, and through the tangle of hair and shredded material, her pale skin was decorated in shades of blue, green, and purple darkening to a painful maroon. One thin arm was wrapped around her ribs, which were either broken or cracked. “What’s your name?”
Those dark eyes watched her, a wary tightness drawing tiny, white lines around them. “Eirene.”
“Eirene, my name’s Raine. We need to get you out of here. I promised Maris I’d bring you back.”
Her head dipped in acknowledgement, but she didn’t look away. “He’s dead?”
Eirene’s fear scraped over Raine, leaving her raw. “My word to you.”
The battered woman caught back a sob of relief. “Finally.”
Raine’s stomach clenched. Why did that word make dread curl in her stomach? “Finally?”
Eirene ran a shaky hand through her tangled hair, trying to drag it out of her face. “Do you know what Lyr’s Seat is?”
Wracking her brain, Raine recalled a dusty piece of Kyn history. “The Undersea throne, right?”
Leaning against the stone wall, Eirene nodded. “In an attempt to alleviate strained relationships between the Tritons and the Selkies, the last ruler appointed court representatives to ensure an equal voice between the courts. Aidan, the current ruler, gives heavy credence to his Selkie advisor, to the displeasure of others.”
Pieces began to click. “Let me guess. You’re the advisor?”
Eirene’s smile was shaky, but there. “No, that dubious honor belongs to my husband.”
“And Kaimana decided to use you and your daughter as leverage against your husband?”
Eirene’s smile faded, fear and feminine loathing twisted her face into a grimace. “That may have been the initial plan, but I think it was an excuse for what he really wanted.”