There was no sign of anything.
They were alone.
“Penelope?” he asked, worried if she was okay. The boat had rocked hard enough to cause him to lose his footing, and he was a seasoned vet.
“I didn’t fall in if that’s what you’re wondering,” she said, setting his mind at ease.
“I hereby forbid you from falling in. Got it?” he said, only partially joking. As the thought of her actually falling overboard came over him, panic welled. His palms began to sweat, and for half a second, he feared he’d lose control of his wolf and change shapes then and there—no matter if she was prepared for the sight or not. After a few tense seconds, he gathered control of himself once more and looked at the cheesecake on the boat. There was no salvaging it. Perfectly good dessert was now smashed and would require a good rinse down with a hose when he got back to the marina. “Fish sticks.”
He groaned, inwardly cursing Polly.
Penelope laughed loudly from the deck.
“Our cheesecake died a horrible death!” he called out.
She laughed more. “Tell Deputy March I was innocent in its ending.”
He snorted and was about to say something witty when the boat rocked hard again; this time it was very clear something had struck the hull of the boat. And whatever it was, it wasn’t small. It hit the boat again and caused it to tip with a force that sent Hugh sliding across the cockpit area. He caught himself on the lifeline and only barely managed to stay on the boat. For a split second, he worried they’d capsize.
This wasn’t an area you wanted to be in the water. The currents would bash a body against the unforgiving rocks of the shoreline. While he’d be able to survive that kind of damage and heal, he wasn’t sure Penelope would. There was no way he wanted to test the theory.
Penelope’s scream clawed at his gut, and he shot up and across the boat, drawing on his supernatural speed. He was to the deck in less than a second, grabbing her and drawing her back from the edge. He kept hold of her as the boat rocked violently. She cried out again as the picnic basket tumbled over the edge and into the ocean. Hugh didn’t care about it. His only worry was Penelope.
He moved her quickly in the direction of the cockpit, wanting to get her in a life jacket before he did anything else. He couldn’t stomach the idea of her falling in and being lost at sea. In that instant, he knew he’d move heaven and hell for the dark-haired beauty in his arms. The idea should have stopped him dead in his tracks, but adrenaline and fear for her safety kept him going.
Once they made it to the cockpit, he grabbed a life jacket and clumsily managed to get it on her before rushing back to the wheel. “Go below!”
“Hugh!” shouted Penelope, ignoring his order, as the boat continued to rock in a manner it shouldn’t. The swells were small, and there was no bad weather.
Something was under them, striking the boat again and again. That wasn’t something that usually happened. Whales and sharks didn’t attack boats despite what the movies wanted people to believe. The thought sobered him instantly.
He was just about to grab the wheel when something came up from the ocean and over the side of the boat at him. It took his mind a moment to comprehend what he was seeing—a giant tentacle. It wrapped around him faster than he could move away and in one powerful motion, it ripped him over the side and into the icy depths of the ocean. The cold water nearly stole the air from his lungs.
He’d grown up on the ocean. He didn’t fear it, but he did respect it. And right now, he knew he was screwed. Whatever had him had a vise-like grip around his waist. The fact that it was causing him internal injuries meant something. Whatever it was, it was very powerful.
Hugh let his shifter side poke through as claws erected from his fingertips. He slashed at the tentacle around him. The minute the creature loosened its hold he kicked his feet, following the bubbles upward. His sole concern was Penelope. Had whatever grabbed him gotten her too? He broke the surface and sucked in a huge breath of air. The boat was about twenty feet from him now. He spotted Penelope there, looking over the edge of the boat, terror on her beautiful face.
Relief swept through him.
She was safe.
He started to swim in the direction of the boat. He’d only taken a few strokes when he found himself being yanked under the surface again. With his claws still extended, he thrashed at the sea creature, all the while trying to keep his head about him. Panicking would cause him to lose air faster than he was able to take it in and would only serve to kill him faster.
He cut deep into the tentacle, and the creature released him once again. Hugh didn’t even make it to the surface for another breath before another tentacle caught him around the ankle, yanking him toward the creature, and holding him underwater even longer. It was then he got a good look at the thing attacking him.
For a moment, his mind couldn’t compute what he was seeing. It wasn’t an octopus or a giant squid. It was something he’d seen in paintings, depicted in old books the town kept on the history of supernatural beings and the strange and unusual.
What held him underwater was something even he had a hard time believing was real—a kraken.
Great time to panic now.
He somehow managed to maintain his cool, despite wanting to yell. He came face to face with the beast and found himself looking into a set of eyes that instantly made him think of his friend Sigmund.
That was absurd.
Sigmund didn’t troll the seas and try to drown people. He just sneezed a lot.
The creature jerked harder on Hugh, and Hugh’s lungs screamed in agony. As the creature opened its mouth, showing rows of jagged teeth, Hugh knew the end was near.
Just then, a streak of red light shot right past him, striking the creature. It reared back, releasing him in the process. Hugh lunged for the surface and sucked in a huge breath, his lungs burning.
He coughed and then got his senses about him and swam quickly in the direction of the boat. He made it back in record time. As he reached up to pull himself from the water, Penelope’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She gave a hard yank, stunning him by not only lifting his entire body weight out of the water with one fluid motion, but also flinging him onto the deck with a hard thud, knocking the wind out of him.
Blackness swarmed his vision. One second he was looking up at the sky and the next he was out cold.
Chapter Sixteen
“Holy Hannah! He’s dead!” shouted Penelope. Her heart beat madly as she slid on the deck to Hugh. She instantly launched into life-saving measures. Although she wasn’t exactly sure how to perform CPR. She’d never taken a course on it. She’d seen it done on television. Anyone could do it, right?
She put her mouth to his and was just about to blow in a breath of air when Hugh’s tongue greeted hers. His hand slid into the back of her hair, and he held her head in place, his tongue still teasing hers. Somehow, she didn’t think this was part of the process.
She pushed on his chest. As much as she wanted the kiss to go on, she needed to know he was totally all right.
They broke apart slightly. “Hey there,” he said, a lopsided grin on his face.
“Are you hurt?”
“My pride is damaged because you tossed me onto the boat like a rag doll, but other than that, I’m good. Is the Kraken still gone?”
She let out a long breath that she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding. “Thank Juniper. Wait? Kraken? As in, you know, a Kraken?”
“You have very strange sayings,” he said.
“This from the man who used ‘fish sticks’ as a curse word.”
He grinned at her more, and she bent, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”
She stayed close to him, noticing that he wasn’t freezing like he should have been coming from the cold water. If anything, he was extra hot. She blinked a few times and then his earlier statement began to sink in. “Hold the pickles. Were you serious about that huge octopus thing being a kraken?”
“Yes,” said Hugh. “And I’d like you to know I’m very fond of pickles.”
She stared down at him. Was he for real? Yes, whatever had attacked the boat and Hugh had been massive and had a lot of tentacles, but a kraken? No. That couldn’t be. They weren’t real.
Neither are werewolves, ghosts, and witches, but that doesn’t stop him from talking about them.
He’d been underwater a long time. More than a person ever should. Perhaps he was suffering from lack of oxygen. That would explain what he was saying and what he thought he saw. She didn’t know much about oxygen deprivation, but she’d go out on a limb that hallucinations might be a side effect.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” she said, trying to lift his weight from the deck. She couldn’t budge him. She’d pulled him over the side only minutes before, but now he was like trying to move a mountain.
He tugged on her, pulling her down to him, his mouth finding hers. His kiss was tender yet packed full of need. Her concern for him took root, and she found herself returning the kiss with equal amounts of worry and eagerness. Hugh met her all the way. When they finally drew back from one another, they were both breathless.
“I need to nearly drown more often,” he said, a goofy look on his face.
She swatted at his arm. “Not funny.”
“Ouch,” he said, rubbing his arm, his eyes widened. “Woman, you are really strong.”
She frowned. “I’m not.”
“You pulled me onto this boat with one hand and I more than cleared the rail. I told you that you had the ability to do great things.”
She shook her head. “That was just the adrenaline. Mothers lift cars off children when in crisis mode. There isn’t anything supernatural about it. I just tried to get you off the deck and couldn’t budge you. See. I’m normal. So are you. Well, you can hold your breath a long time and live to tell the tale, but other than that you’re relatively sane.”
Relatively being the keyword.
The boat rocked again, and Hugh pushed to his feet. He grabbed her, putting her body behind his in a protective manner as he stared out at the water, illuminated only by partial moonlight. She couldn’t see much beyond blackness, but Hugh didn’t appear to be having issues. The man must have incredible night vision.
The tension in his body eased, and he stopped crowding her behind him and turned to face her. He looked to the side at the flare gun on the deck. “You shot it, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I almost jumped in after you, but figured whatever that was had a lot of legs so having us both trapped wouldn’t help anyone. It was then I looked for something to use as a weapon. Let me just say that worked far better than a ballpoint pen, which was my last go-to weapon choice.”
“Huh?” he asked, confusion coating his face.
“Nothing,” she said, thinking back to how she’d clutched a ballpoint pen in her rental car, on the edge of the cliffs above, thinking the end was near. It turned out to be only Jolene.
The boat stopped rocking and stilled. Everything seemed incredibly calm as if nothing had occurred there. Had she not just been part of it, she’d have never believed any of it had occurred.
Her first day in Everlasting was certainly turning out to be memorable.
She and Hugh stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Hugh leaned over the side of the boat and boldly stared down at the water.
Penelope grabbed the belt loop of his jeans and held firm. She didn’t want him to be a snack for whatever that thing was.
He stepped back. “It’s gone. At least for now.”
“W-what was it, for real?”
He faced her. “The truth or a lie to soften it all?”
“Truth,” she said.
“I already told you the truth. It was a kraken.”
Penelope’s blood went cold. She blinked several times and thought harder about everything that had happened since her arrival in Everlasting in the wee hours of the morning. As it all sank in, she felt lightheaded. She’d seen the creature with her own eyes. It wasn’t something found in nature. There was no logical explanation for it. At least nothing that made sense.
“Hugh.”
“Yeah, hon?” he asked, his voice low as if he knew she was close to being in a state of shock.
“Can you show me the shifter side of you now?”
As he stood before her his arms suddenly sprouted gray fur. As if that wasn’t enough, long claws sprang forth from his fingertips. His already large, muscular arms seemed to increase in size and mass. She looked up to find his brown gaze was now an icy blue.
“Hold the pickles,” she mumbled before passing out.
Chapter Seventeen
Hugh continued to pace the floor of Warrick’s Surf & Turf. Curt was close, pouring Hugh a three-finger shot of high-end bourbon. Seeing Curt using the good stuff, Pappy Van Winkle’s, surprised him. Curt liked the finer things in life, but he also knew when to keep something back for a special occasion. Apparently, having his best friend nearly eaten by a kraken meant the good stuff was pulled out.
Hugh shook his head. “No. I need to keep my wits about me. Penelope isn’t handling this well.”
“To be fair, she was almost dinner for a kraken right before you decided to come out of the shifter closet.” Curt looked past him in the direction of Penelope, who hadn’t budged since coming to.
“It felt like the right time.” Hugh ran a hand through his hair as he stood in the bar area of the fancy restaurant that Curt had opened nearly ten years back. It did well and seemed to be a favorite among not only the locals but tourists as well. Hugh wasn’t a big fan of fancy foods, so he preferred Chickadee’s Diner. Curt had a back area that he often rented out for wedding receptions, retirement parties, and so forth. The doors to that area were open, indicating the restaurant had been packed earlier and the overflow seating area had been needed.
“Answer something for me,” said Curt, pushing the glass toward Hugh on the bar top. The surface was made from reclaimed wood. Hugh had helped Curt handcraft it when he’d opened the place. The wood had been from an old ship and gave a nod to the ocean and sailing—something Curt loved dearly. Both men did. “What made you want to tell her at all? You’ve dated plenty of women whom you never bothered to tell what you are. Why her and why the same day that you meet her?”
There was the rub. He’d known Penelope all his life. She’d been important to him when they were children and had somehow managed to become more important to him as an adult. He didn’t know why. All he knew was that nothing would ever be the same for him again. She’d hit him with her car and spun his world on its axis. “I met her when we were kids. I just didn’t put that together until later in the day.”
“Cut the crap,” said Curt with an incensed breath. “You confessed something huge to a woman you barely know and who has been back in your life a day. I want to know why. There is a lot at stake telling someone about shifters, and you well know that. This is bigger than just you. Everlasting could be at risk. You know that we all agreed to keep what we are secret from outsiders.”
“She’s not an outsider. She was born here.” Hugh lowered his head, his emotions all over the place. He’d not been able to think clearly since he’d looked up to see Penelope above him after she’d struck him with her car. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m different with her.”
“I noticed,” returned Curt, a slightly amused note to his voice. “Hell, even Petey noticed and you’ve seen how good with the opposite sex he is.”
Hugh glanced in the direction of Penelope, who was still sitting at a dining table with a blanket around her shoulders, staring at the candle that was lit on the table top. White linens covered each table, and fresh flowers were in small vases at each as well. Curt wasn’t one to spare any expense when it came to his restaurant. He’d had custom artwork done with scenes depicting the local fishing and boating industry. Several of Hugh’s charter boats were shown in the paintings.
“Think she snapped?” asked Curt, motioning to Penelope.
“To be honest, I’m not sure.”
Penelope hadn’t said a word since she’d woken when Hugh was docking the boat. Curt had walked out, getting ready to close up his restaurant for the night, and found Hugh carrying Penelope from the sailboat. When Hugh had told his friend what had happened to them, Curt had ushered them quickly into his restaurant.
Despite their best efforts, Penelope wouldn’t respond to them. She simply stared at the candle. Hugh knew she was in shock. He couldn’t blame her. He was still taken aback by the evening’s events, and he’d known the truth about what was in the world from birth.
Curt poured himself a drink from the aged bourbon as well. “Hugh, all kidding aside, do you think she might be your mate?”
Hugh spun around to stare at his longtime friend. “What? No. Wait. Maybe. Butter rum squash cookies!”
Curt held back his laughter—barely. “Buster told me about the drink Polly sent you. I’d heard she has money riding on our bet. Looks like she made sure you couldn’t lose.”
“He’s a giant dog,” Penelope said softly, but loud enough for both Curt and Hugh to pick up on with their supernatural hearing. While Hugh wasn’t thrilled to be called a dog rather than a wolf, he was happy to hear Penelope speaking at all.
Curt grinned. “You really should explain the difference between wolves and dogs to your mate.”
My mate?
Hugh paled. Could Penelope really be his? That one person created just for him? She was a Messing. What were the odds a Messing and a Lupine would be destined for one another? They’d been on opposite sides of the fence since the dawn of time.
Hugh thought about the strange pull to Penelope. About how it had always been there to some degree, even when they were young. He thought about the fierce need he possessed to protect her. About how he’d reacted to seeing her laughing with Curt, and gifting him smiles that should have been reserved for Hugh. He thought about the way he craved her kisses, her touch. About the way he’d thought of little else other than her all day since, she’d struck him with her car. He thought about how he’d struggled more than once around her with his shifter side.
Once Hunted, Twice Shy: A Cozy Paranormal Mystery (The Happily Everlasting Series Book 2) Page 11