The table before her was empty but for her clasped hands, nervously working together as she stared out the windows, watching the ocean with unblinking eyes. She almost looked like she was in some kind of trace.
Was she on something? Stars. Now I sounded like Nick, my private investigator friend.
Abandoning my latte and muffin, I stood and went to the front table where we kept the sugar packets, cup sleeves, tiny straws, etc. I grabbed the pitcher of ice water and a plastic cup. With a gentle smile, I approached her table and held out the glass. She didn’t seem to notice me until I cleared my throat.
Her eyes went wide as they swooped around the room and then landed back on me. Without warning, she leapt up from the chair, nearly knocking the glass from my hand.
“Whoa! Are you all right?” I asked, backing up a step.
She reminded me of a spooked foal, her long legs unsteady beneath her. “I have to go.”
“Oh—okay. Are you—”
Without waiting for me to finish my question, she swerved around me and bolted for the door. I watched her go tearing off down the sidewalk and then glanced at Rita, who looked just as confused as I felt. “What on earth was that?” she asked when our eyes met.
“I have no idea,” I replied, crossing back to the counter. I placed the water pitcher and cup down and let out a sigh. “I’ve never seen her around town before. Have you?”
“She came in earlier, lingered around the case, and then left without buying anything. I actually thought she might have stolen one of those cookies, but I couldn’t tell for sure.”
“Oh?” I went to the display of cellophane-wrapped sugar cookies and considered the stack. We didn’t keep inventory on things like that so there really wasn’t a way to know if one had been pilfered.
We shrugged it off and went back to cleaning and prepping for the impending lunch crowd, but I couldn’t get the flighty girl out of my mind. She’d looked so scared and fragile.
Later that night, when I returned to the manor—pizza box in hand—I still hadn’t been able to shake the girl’s image from my mind and told Evangeline and Adam about her as we noshed.
“Rita thinks she might be a runaway,” I concluded. “I wonder if I should tell Nick about her. See if he can access the missing persons database and look for her. I can’t imagine there are too many girls who would fit her description.”
“Maybe,” Adam replied. “But if she really did steal some food, why would she hang around the place she stole from? Then again, those cookies are really good. Maybe she was coming back and waiting for a chance to grab another one.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw before shifting his gaze back to me. “Were they the kind with the white frosting?”
Evangeline snorted. “Uh, relevance?”
“You can’t eat just one of those cookies. It’s not possible.”
I laughed. “I’m sure you’ve done extensive testing on the matter.”
“Penny had me help her when she was developing the recipe,” he answered with a shrug. “The secret is a hint of almond extract.”
“Good to know,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Maybe she was just late for something,” Evangeline suggested. “You said she was kind of daydreamy before you approached her. She probably lost track of time.”
I took a pensive bite of my slice and mulled it over.
“Still, it can’t hurt to have Nick keep an ear open,” Evangeline added. “He works with Chief Lincoln and would likely hear about it if they suspected a missing girl was in the area.”
I nodded and drank my soda.
“In a town like this, she won’t be able to fly under the radar for long,” Adam added.
Evangeline smiled. “I’d say we’re all doing a pretty good job.”
She had a point. The Beechwood Manor had served as a halfway house for displaced supernatural creatures and beings for decades without anyone in the sleepy town catching wind of any paranormal shenanigans. Sure, the manor itself was listed on several websites for wannabe ghost hunters as a potential haunted house—which it technically was—but so far we’d managed to keep looky-loos off the premises. And as far as the townspeople, they were none the wiser. People came and went, but that was fairly common in roommate situations.
There was a knock on the door, and I popped up to go answer it. “Speak of the devil. I invited Nick over for a slice. Hope that’s okay?”
“Of course!” Evangeline replied.
I went to the door and let Nick inside. “Busy day at the office?” I asked, leading the way back to the kitchen.
“Not really,” he answered. “There was some excitement down at Thistle. Some teenager got caught shoplifting and when the owner called the police, the girl went berserk. Started throwing things and yelling.”
I winced. “Did you see her?”
Nick nodded. “Yeah. Chief gave me a jingle to see if I’d heard anything about her. She’s not in the system and didn’t have an ID on her at the time of her arrest. She told the officers she doesn’t have a last name. The whole thing is a little weird.”
I paused at the swinging door separating the living room from the kitchen and turned back toward Nick. “Was she about five-seven? With silver hair and a pink dress?”
His expression twisted, a furrowed line appearing between his brows. “How did you—”
“Come on,” I said, pushing open the door to the kitchen. “Grab a slice and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Chapter Three
“Sounds like she’s in some kind of trouble,” Nick agreed once I’d filled him in on the strange encounter with the girl at the coffee house that morning. “After Chief called me about her, I did a quick search, just based on the physical description, but I couldn’t find anything in the missing persons database. I’m sure the Chief’s deputies would have found something like that if it were in any kind of record. It’s tough without a full name.”
“What will happen to her?” I asked, fidgeting with the remaining crust of my pizza. I wasn’t hungry anymore.
I’d spent a good portion of my adult life living under the radar and as a result, had found myself in some pretty desperate circumstances. While I didn’t know a thing about the silver-haired girl, I did know something of her terror. I could easily imagine the frantic thoughts racing through her mind as she sat in a holding cell, feeling the walls close in around her.
Been there, done that, didn’t want the t-shirt.
“She’s sitting at the station, cooling her heels. Chief said he’d cut her loose once she agreed to pay back the damage done to Thistle in her little tirade.”
“But if she doesn’t have any money—” I argued, cutting myself off. “I want to help her.”
“Holly?” Adam said, touching my elbow. “It sounds like the chief has it under control.”
“Can I at least go and talk to her? There’s something about her that I can’t get out of my head.” I turned back to Nick. “You’re sure she’s still at the station?”
He consulted the large clock on the wall. “As of about two hours ago, she was.”
I got up from my place at the table and carried my plate to the trash. I scraped off the remnants of cheese and tossed the crust before putting my plate in the sink. Posy would kill me for leaving a dirty dish, but I’d deal with her later. Our ghostly landlady took persnickety to whole new heights, but as a card-carrying member of the spirit world, her bark was far worse than her bite.
When I returned from getting my shoes and informing Boots that his own dinner would be delayed—my second cardinal sin of the night—I found Adam, Evangeline, and Nick standing by the front door.
Guess I’d have an entourage to the police station.
It turned out to be a good thing. When I checked in with Chief Lincoln, he informed me that the girl had promised to pay her debt and been released a few minutes before our arrival. The rain and wind from the morning had burned off and led to a warm evening. I persuaded—okay, bribed with the promise of don
uts—the others to search for half an hour and we split up to look for the girl.
The minutes ticked down and my heart sank a little lower when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I perked up when I realized it wasn’t the timer going off. Instead, it was a text message from Adam.
Found her. Hurry.
Below the alarming words was a map. I popped it open and found they were less than five blocks from where I stood. A perk of small town living—nothing is ever far away. I took brisk steps to the spot indicated and spotted Evangeline standing watch at the corner of the brick building that housed a popular pub. She jolted forward when she saw me. “This way,” she called, scurrying down the alleyway.
Adam had the girl cornered, his face tensed with worry. I took two steps and then stopped short. The girl was glowing. Actually, glowing. Her skin was alight from the inside out, her skin luminescent and shining in the shaded alley. She was curled into a tight ball, clutching her stomach and rocking back and forth.
“What happened?” I asked, my eyes flying to Adam’s.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. She was running this way and I called out to her. She spooked and came down here. When I caught up….” he trailed off and gestured at the girl. “She won’t say anything. I don’t even know if she can.”
With a stunning spell ready on the tips of my fingers, I knelt down beside the girl and reached out to touch her bare arm. I halfway expected her skin to radiate heat along with the light, but a sheen of sweat and goosebumps met my fingertips.
“She’s freezing cold,” I said. “We have to get her back to the manor.”
Nick arrived at the mouth of the alley, breathing hard. “What happened to her?”
“We don’t know. Adam found her like this.” I pushed up to my feet. “Can you help Adam get her back to the manor?”
“I can go get my car!” Evangeline offered. “It’ll take me less than ten minutes.”
“That’s too long. Here,” I said, reaching down the front of my shirt. I pulled out a vintage medallion and clasped it in one hand, taking Evangeline’s with the other. I squeezed my eyes closed and whispered, “The manor.”
When I reopened my eyes, we were standing on the back porch.
“Holly!” Evangeline squealed.
“What?” I said, slipping the Larkspur medallion back down my shirt.
“Next time, a little heads-up would be great,” she said, her tone frosty. “I’d like to give consent before being teleported or whatever the heck you call what we just did.”
She shook her shoulders and I gave an apologetic nod. “Got it.”
Still scowling, she yanked the backdoor open and went to find her car keys.
Twenty minutes later, we were all gathered around the wayward teen in the manor’s formal sitting room. She was bundled in a thick blanket and her teeth had finally stopped chattering. The strange light that had appeared to come from under her skin had also disappeared.
“Okay. So, not to be rude, but … um … what are you?” I asked her after assuring her she was safe.
She flicked a nervous glance at all of us before answering, “I’m a selkie.”
I didn’t mean to, but I gawked. Full on double take.
“Whoa, cool. A seal-person!”
“Adam,” I growled. My eyelids pinched closed for a moment before opening into thin slits to shoot a dark look at my other—and far less eloquent—half.
“What? It’s been a minute since my academy days, but that’s what we’re talking about here, right?” He shifted his attention to the lavender-haired girl. “You turn into a seal?”
If the girl was ruffled, she didn’t show it. “Technically, I’m a sea lion that turns into a human.”
Her matter-of-fact manner startled me and I dropped the evil eye. “It was you!”
“Excuse me?”
“Last night, on the beach, I saw a sea lion. It was you, wasn’t it?”
I waited, leaning forward slightly.
She held my gaze for a long moment and then dipped her chin. “Yes,” she said. “My—uh, friend—was having a party and wanted me to come and meet his friends.”
“Friend, huh?” Adam flashed a knowing grin at me.
I elbowed him in the ribs. Stars help them, if he ever had teenage daughters in the future.
On the outside, he looked somewhere between a GQ model and a motorcycle enthusiast. His dark brown hair was freshly cut, but still long enough to run my fingers through, and he had a tousled, bed-head look that most women—myself included—found irresistible. He wore well-worn jeans low on his hips, paired with a black tee and his signature leather jacket that he found in a vintage shop in downtown Seattle years before.
His smile is always touched with a whisper of mischief and trouble, another trait I like to call lady catnip. Standing somewhat at odds with his good looks and effortless cool guy persona was his corny sense of humor and his monster appetite for all things junk food, including some really off-the-wall combinations that made me theorize his tastebuds were wrongly calibrated and his shifter stomach was lined with cast iron.
“Listen,” I said to the girl, ignoring Adam’s needling attempts. “It’s none of our business why you’re here. But when I saw you at the coffee shop earlier, you seemed a little … anxious. Then the next thing I hear, you’re swiping stuff from the market. If you’re in trouble, we can help. This very house is a refuge for supernaturals.”
The girl stared at me for a long moment, her violet eyes unblinking. “I don’t need your help. I’m fine.” She threw off the blanket and moved to stand. No one stepped in her way but we all scrambled up to follow her to the door.
“Please,” I said, resisting the urge to reach out and grab her by the arm. “At least let us feed you a proper meal before you go.”
“I’m not hungry,” she insisted, flinging open the front door.
Adam placed a hand on my shoulder, silently telling me to let her go.
I released a heavy sigh but didn’t chase after the girl as she stalked down the front walk.
Chapter Four
Two days passed without a sighting of the girl. Adam and Evangeline tried to reassure me that she was fine, but I couldn’t push her out of my mind. I’d gone down to the beach the next two nights looking for her, but returned empty-handed and more frustrated than before.
“I just hope she’s all right,” I said over a scattered mass of Chinese take-out boxes. “She was trying pretty hard to convince us that she could take care of herself, but I don’t know that I bought it.”
“I don’t really know much about selkies,” Evangeline said, using her chopsticks to dunk half an egg roll into a sticky-sweet chili sauce. “What’s the difference between a selkie and a regular shifter? I mean, aren’t there seal-shifters?”
We both looked to Adam.
He shrugged. “Probably. Though, I’ve never met any personally.”
I filled my plate with fried rice and considered the question. “I’d think the main difference is that shifters spent the majority of their time in their human form. With selkies, it’s the opposite. They spend their time as sea lions and rarely come to shore to transform into humans.”
Evangeline nodded, one cheek rounded as she chewed thoughtfully.
“I wonder if there is a pod in the area,” I said to no one in particular.
Posy, our landlady ghost and original lady of the Beechwood Manor, floated into the room and immediately crinkled her nose. “I swear, it’s a wonder any of you are still breathing, with the amount of deep-fried foods you consume. Don’t any of you eat vegetables?”
I frowned at my fried rice and my cheeks warmed as I realized I’d absently pushed all the peas to one side. Glancing up, I jutted my chin toward three unopened containers. “One of those boxes has steamed broccoli,” I said, moving my arm to block her view of my plate. “Does that count?”
“I had lettuce on my burger today,” Adam piped up.
Posy didn’t look impressed.
>
Evangeline reached for the second half of her egg roll.
“Posy, have you ever seen a pod of selkies around the harbor?” I asked. She’d lived in the manor in life, having been the one to help plan and orchestrate every nook and cranny from the ground up. After her death, she’d remained anchored to the home as a spirit.
Several families came and went in the years following her death, though the occupancies grew shorter and shorter as time went on. Rumors that the place was haunted spread like wildfire through the small community and surrounding towns, and after a couple decades, the manor sat empty. I imagine if it weren’t such a historic home, some developer would have swooped in to bulldoze the place and put up a series of condos in its stead. The unobstructed view of the harbor would no doubt fetch the builder a sizable profit.
However, Posy and her husband, Earl, had been the founders of the beachside town and had it written into the bylaws that their mansion was not to be touched. Of course, with enough money, someone could probably hire a swift-talking lawyer to find a way around the small-town code, but the chamber of commerce and other officials were old stodgy fellows who hated city-slicker lawyers only slightly less than they hated fancy high-rise buildings.
I’m not sure how the original conversation occurred, but someone from the Supernatural Protection Agent (SPA for short) approached Posy and suggested the manor be used as a halfway home for displaced supernaturals. In exchange for hosting tenants, Posy was assured that the manor would be cared for and that an agent of the supernatural law enforcement organization would keep the manor free from land-grabbing lawyers or other threats. They also handled things that a ghost like Posy would find hard to do—set appointments for landscapers, annual repairs, and other maintenance issues.
At the time, it was only the three of us in residence: Adam, myself, and Evangeline. However, I imagined it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Posy relied on the rental income to pay for the repairs and upkeep of the home. I hadn’t asked her recently, but it was likely only a matter of weeks before some newbie would show up on the welcome mat with a suitcase, business card, and—in all likelihood, a complicated backstory that would eventually get us all into trouble.
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