Skye had been silent. “But then the person… Would they be dead, Mummy?” she had asked at last.
“Yes, my darling, they would be dead. But the girl in this story was lucky. Because her sea spirit loved her, and so he let her go. Back to her world, back to the land.” Her mother had turned her face away to the open window overlooking the Bay. “He put something in her heart to make her always come to the sea, so that he would be sure to see her again.” She had sounded sad. “And he let her keep a magical token, a treasure from the sea, so that if ever she should want to, she could return to him.”
“But if he let her go, did that mean he didn’t love her anymore?”
Her mother had smoothed back the fine silvery hair from Skye’s face. “No, Skye. It meant that he loved her more than he loved himself. As much as that was possible.”
Skye pulled the necklace out from under her shirt, turning the shells over in her hands. She lightly stroked her mother’s once-heavy white shell ring. The token in the story – a shell? This shell?
The pieces clicked into place. She’d been blind.
Not cursed, causing the deaths of others. Not a sea spirit, returning to her own kind, abandoning her mortal husband and child. A victim herself. One of the taken.
Come with me. It made perfect, obvious sense.
But one who’d been let go. The lucky one in the fairy tale. Her mother had written about herself. And her father had figured it out, at least part of it.
What had he done?
Ellie has left me...to be with him. Dad had said it was all his fault. What was all his fault? Mum hadn’t worn her necklace that last day. It had been lost.
Or...hidden?
When he’d phoned Skye, he’d said if only he’d known, if only he’d understood, he would never have – what? Trembling, she hit redial on the phone and listened to it ring, imagining it echoing in the study, up the stairs, throughout the bungalow. Was Dad out? Or there, but ignoring it? Or unable to pick up...? His call to her... Her heart pounding sickly, she hung up. What should she do? She looked blindly out of the side French doors, down the alley, across the road to the Bay. Her eyes slowly focused on the rough water. Mermaid weather.
Skye made one more furtive trip across the empty courtyard, returning the phone and grabbing the nearest puffer jacket off the hooks in the office. She left the studio by the side doors, hurrying across the quiet road and along the pavement.
The rough weather was keeping people away from the waterfront, although there was the usual row of cars parked all the way along the road. Patrons of the bars and restaurants, she supposed. Crossing next to a silver sedan like her dad’s she was sharply reminded of his troubling call. Half the world drove a silver sedan, she told herself; don’t take it as a sign. Pausing halfway down the steps to the beach, her eyes followed the rolling breakers.
Then she froze: a shadow, moving with purpose through a wave. It disappeared at once, but she knew what she’d seen. The sense of urgency that had driven her from the café took hold once more, and she ran down the steps, to the firm sand at the waterline, and raced along the beach towards the saddle.
As she ran, dodging the surging foam that rushed in close, she didn’t notice the figure that rose from beneath the surface to watch her, blond hair dripping around his angelic face. His gaze followed her, as other figures rose around him.
They watched the slight figure intently, keeping their distance, moving effortlessly through the water after her, not unlike the way the outgoing tide responded to the pull of the invisible moon.
Skye disappeared behind the rocks at the end of the beach, and as one they swung towards Ciarlan Cove, sinking beneath the water.
35. Bait
Skye slipped and skidded through the slick archway, just managing not to fall, and stepped down onto the crunch of shingle. The air was alive with fine spray from the relentless waves, and the cliff face was blackly wet. She glanced along the beach, a narrow strip above the recently turned tide, and was surprised to see a few other people, all bundled up against the wet. A couple picked their way over rocks at the far end of the beach. Another figure stood alone at the water’s edge about halfway along the beach, transfixed by the churning waves thundering in, and beyond them, a rolling wall of mist. The ocean like this was mesmerising.
Tension tightened her chest. She hesitated, trying to identify the feeling, but the pull of the wild sea, and the hope the shadowy form had stirred in her were stronger. Pushing her misgivings aside, she hurried to where the waves cast the last of their energy, hissing foaming crescents high over the wet shingle.
She hadn’t come with a plan, but found herself kicking her sneakers off, rolling up her jeans, and wading into the writhing shallows. It took her a moment to realise she could barely feel the water against her skin. Just a faint pressure, as if her skin was numb. A surge of surf hit, making her stumble and drenching the bottom of her jeans, although it didn’t seem wet or particularly cold. Regaining her balance, she caught sight of a shape, difficult to make out in the churning foam beyond.
Her heart hammered. Hunter? Or one of his kind? If his people were here, that meant he had returned. Fierce joy flared.
As if she’d summoned him with her hope, Hunter’s dark head rose above the water. With a cry she stumbled forward, but halted at the twisted expression on his face. His eyes burned, agonised. His mouth was a snarl, and she couldn’t mistake the words it formed: keep away. She fell back a step, as if he’d struck her. He narrowed venomous eyes, his mouth forming the words keep away over and over.
Skye’s world tilted on its axis. Why would he do this? Had he lied when he’d left her? Left her, not left to protect her? She stumbled back another step and his vicious mask fell for a moment, revealing grim relief. She saw it: Hunter, her Hunter. Something was wrong.
Too late he realised his mistake as she began to move towards him again. He shook his head desperately, then with a jerk he disappeared beneath the surface.
Staring at where he’d been, Skye glimpsed movement, shadowy forms in the water. He wasn’t alone, or free. Again, his face rose above the water, anguished. Shaking his head desperately, mouthing ‘no’, he abruptly vanished once more. As she moved instinctively towards the shadows, they retreated, not deeper, but parallel to the shore. They were too fast in the water for her to reach this way. She had to get back onto firm sand and run, intercept them further down the beach.
As she turned, her gaze was caught by the solitary figure at the water’s edge, no longer motionless. A man. It was clear that he’d seen something in the waves. He had pulled off his boots, and was tearing off his jacket. Skye stared at him, a horrible sense of déjà vu creeping over her. Without the bulky jacket and hood, he looked uncannily like her father. Even his faded red T-shirt looked like the Chilli Peppers one he sometimes wore.
But her dad was miles away, cities away; worlds away – not here. Her insides were sick with icy fear. He hadn’t answered the phone. But he’d called her just days ago. Called to say…what? Goodbye?
Everything slowed, her thoughts skittering in denial. She couldn’t move as he walked into the surf in his clothes, his face still too distant to make out. But she didn’t really need to see his features to know it was her father. Feeling as if she was falling off that high dangerous place, Skye tried to call to him, to warn him, but her breath was gone.
Following his line of sight into the crashing waves she saw two shapes flitting through the white and turquoise ahead of him, and then a third. Nemaro. Hunter’s words returned to her: could it be her, making them present?
She needed to leave the water, let them be Forgotten, invisible. She stumbled, going down in the surging foam, but rose again in time to see her father throw himself into the waves that moved with shadows. She tried to run through the thigh-deep water to intercept him.
It was already too late.
In front of her, a boy rose from the water, blocking her path. His smile was lovely. “Hello, Skye,” he s
aid. “Just in time for our reunion.”
Skye’s mind flooded with murky seductive memories. Come with me. The sly, beautiful face from her mother’s sketchbook.
“Do you remember me, Skye?” he asked. She met his eyes and flushed at the expression in them, and at the memory of heat moving beyond her control through her bloodstream. “I see that you do,” he smiled, “How delicious. From when, I wonder? How far back do your recollections go? Do you remember that I am Jarrod?”
Skye shook her head, unable to form an answer.
“You see me, Skye, whole and alive as you are. You see me. And you are beautiful, Skye. A song of moonlight on sand, of starlight and mother of pearl.” Although his words were beautiful, there was something mocking behind them.
He moved closer. “Do you have any idea how intoxicating you are?” he breathed. “You are indeed a prize, as the Keeper found...and lost. As if he could keep a secret such as you from us. Or hide such a threat. Because you are a threat, Skye. A danger to us all.” Skye saw in his face how easily he could end the threat of her.
His gaze ran over her face. “But one best kept close, rather than removed. You are my reward, and my recompense, Skye. And already you are bringing great reward: the demise of the human who brought destruction to my clan.”
She followed Jarrod’s gaze. She could see her father clearly now. He called something to the sea, something desperate, inarticulate with anguish and longing. Although swallowed by the crash of the waves it sounded like ‘Ellie’. What could he see? Shadows that looked like Mum?
Beyond him she recognised one of the girls from the group of swimmers, and others further out. They were drawing him deeper. It was a trap. And she was part of it. Even as she looked the mist reached them, and her father’s red shirt faded into the haze. Dad.
“He tried to lay claim to a human who belonged to us,” Jarrod hissed, “and so sent one of our own to his death, along with her. Your mother, Skye. This man killed them both.”
Tiny explosions went off behind her eyes, breaking her heart and her brain into little pieces, laying her bare and numbing her all at the same time. Her father had killed her mother? She couldn’t shout into this smiling face that he was lying, because the thought was already in her heart. Was it true?
“A life for a life, Skye. One of my clan, who should have lived forever, gone because of this selfish fool. Your mother died because of this fool. Today he dies. But you, Skye, will take your place with us. For a time, at least. Boredom is a condition of immortality, no matter how enchanting the muse.” He leaned closer, his cold breath at her ear, “And you are enchanting, Skye. I can’t think of a time I’ve been more...bewitched. Perhaps it will be different this time – after all, you are different.”
Jarrod pulled back to study her face, his perfect lips curving in a soft smile. His eyes were darkly blue, wide and compelling as he gazed at her. As if she was a species he was studying.
He reached as if to remove Skye’s jacket, then went still, staring at her neck. His eyes widened for an instant, then narrowed as he moved her collar aside and stared at her necklace. “So...” he breathed. He gently gathered the fine chain of her necklace in his cold hands and stared at the shells. “The Keeper has been busy. But no matter – this makes my task even easier.” He let the necklace fall back into place. “Perfect, in fact. We will watch the human die, and then you will join us.”
Skye stared in horror at Jarrod’s smiling face. She shook her head. “Please,” fear squeezed her voice to almost nothing, “Please don’t hurt my dad. He loved my mum. It’s not his fault.”
“Oh, but he isn’t your father,” Jarrod countered. “Didn’t you know, Skye? That’s what makes this so perfect. I have waited for revenge for ten long years, but I have waited for you even longer, although I didn’t realise it at the time. You would have joined us sooner if I had. I thought you had perished with your mother. There is only one way you could have survived, only one thing that explains how you see us. But the nineteen or so years you’ve wasted in their world are over at last. Today you join your clan. Today you will come with me.”
Skye blinked at him, her mind sluggish, his voice like a drug her system remembered. “I’m seventeen,” she finally whispered thickly, the only thought she could properly form. He stiffened.
“That can’t be.” He stared at her, frowning, calculating. Then he shook his head impatiently. “No matter. I’m sure I’m right, but if I’m not – thanks to the Keeper we have a way. You will be as close to being one of us as you can be, closer if I’m right. And if I’m wrong and you are a little more...biddable...all the better.” he grinned, his eyes alight with anticipation. “Don’t resist me, Skye. I have earned you. The two human youths who would have harmed you, who’d already killed a girl like you – both dead at my hands. This human who cost you your mother will soon join them. You owe me everything.”
There was a shout, and Skye saw Hunter erupt from the water nearby, other sea people falling off him. At once they flung themselves on him again, disappearing below the frothing waves once more. Jarrod snarled. “I’ll deal with him.” He turned back to Skye and brushed his cold cheek against hers for a chilling second.
“Wait for me” he commanded softly, his lips silky against her ear, his voice echoing through her dazed mind. In a swirl of water, he vanished beneath a wave that rocked her as it rolled past.
But with Jarrod gone, her head began to clear, his words of command sliding away. She was vaguely aware that on the shore the couple on the distant rocks had turned back, running along the beach. Skye scanned the rolling breakers for her father, and glimpsed his red T-shirt, faint through the mist. He was deep in the waves, disappearing and reappearing from sight as he followed the figures leading him on. Then he went under and didn’t resurface.
Skye threw herself towards him, floundering awkwardly. A wave crashed over her, and pushed her under, tumbling her around. She desperately thrust her feet out for a seabed that wasn’t there. Her mouth filled with water she couldn’t feel, and she spun helplessly, unable to find the surface to get breath. Breath she suddenly realised she didn’t need. The shell Hunter had given her! She had to get it to her father. It was his only hope.
Her feet found the seabed at last, and she stood, deep in the surging water. She tore the necklace off and screamed for him. For an instant he resurfaced, closer than she could have hoped. She screamed to him again. His tortured eyes found her, and she drew back her arm and flung the necklace to him with all her strength, then he was lost from her sight again.
As the shell left her hand, the full power of the water, the bitter weight of it knocked her off her feet, and she realised she’d barely felt the force of the waves before. They swept over her and pulled her below again, tumbling her uncontrollably. Familiar darkness closed in, and the roar of her nightmares joined the deafening roar of the present.
Then before her in the stinging surge, Jarrod appeared. He seized her hands. But instead of taking her up, to light and air, he pulled her towards him, drawing her deeper and deeper. Around them other figures gathered.
It was like her nightmare, but all wrong, backwards. She shook her head and body frantically, trying to free her hands: she needed air. Beyond him through the dim sediment-filled water Skye glimpsed Hunter, held captive by four of his kind, struggling desperately to break free of them. He was shouting something she couldn’t hear, his face twisting in fury as he watched her, powerless to intervene.
Jarrod’s voice sounded in her head, “Come with me, Skye. Accept this element. Let go of the earth and the air. Take your place with us. Come with me.”
Skye’s head buzzed as his words moved through her, whispers of the onlookers joining with echoes of summoning. But the heavy warmth she’d experienced once before was now just a passing breath, dissolved almost as soon as she felt it. As bubbles spilled from her mouth Jarrod smiled, his black eyes eager for whatever he thought would follow.
She jerked, desperate for air,
and his smile faded. Suddenly releasing her hands, he tore her jacket open, his face registering shock and then horror as he realised the necklace was gone. He stared from her to Hunter as if uncertain of what to do. Then he turned back to her, gripping her arms, his face fierce.
“Come with me,” he commanded, a desperate edge to his potent persuasiveness. “Come with Me.”
As Skye’s lungs filled with water, her world narrowed to this single point in time, to a single thought. Her eyes found Hunter. Her mind was filled with him, her heart beating only for him. Jarrod’s summons washed through her and away with the sweep of water. Her head fell back, and Jarrod let her go, recoiling with horror.
In her mind Skye made one final instinctive bid for life, but her limp body barely twitched. The surface was invisible. The weight of the water above bore her slowly downwards. As she sank she felt a tremor of energy ripple through the water as blackness swallowed everything.
An incalculable time later, into her dark world came light. Pure, blinding, all-consuming, blue at its searing heart. And speeding from the light, thousands of other points of light flew at her, piercing her, her body jolting as they struck deep into her core. And now all around her was the sensation of speed and movement. She became aware of arms holding her, of water sweeping over them as Hunter sped her up, his voice pleading, “Don’t leave me, Skye, please. Don’t leave me...”
Their momentum slowed. She managed to open her eyes and lift her head. Hunter was paler than pale. Even as their eyes met and relief washed the grief from his face, his head lolled back, his eyes rolling up in his head. Like a free-falling angel his arms fell open, releasing her, and he sank away from her into the gloom. Below him other motionless figures sank, a host of falling angels vanishing into shadow.
Find Me (Immersed Book 1) Page 32