Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
There’s no time to waste. I dive deep again, pushing my body faster and faster through the cold water. Distantly, there’s a faint sound of a body hitting the water, but I can’t focus on that right now. I have to trust Siobhan and Lizzie to keep whomever has come to investigate off me.
I barrel toward the surface and the ship and again twist at the last moment to hit it a second time. It truly gives way, my body wedging into the newly created hole hard enough that I have to fight to get free. The broken wood scratches at my skin, but I’m made of sterner stuff than that. I wiggle free and twist out into the water to find Siobhan in the middle of a fight with a shadowy figure.
I swim up underneath Lizzie and urge her to the surface again. It’s only been a couple of minutes, but she can’t hold her breath like I can. She fights me a little, but ultimately she’s only humanoid and I’m a creature of the waves. We breach the surface and she takes a gasping breath. “We need to help her.”
Siobhan’s more than capable of taking care of herself. I have no voice in this form, but surely Lizzie can smell the blood saturating the water around us. It makes me a little nervous, because while there aren’t likely to be a large number of predators in this bay, blood can make even the most cautious hunter forget themselves.
Lizzie curses and wraps her fingers around my harness. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
I inhale deeply and dive below the surface, cutting through the water to where Siobhan is prying the hole open even further. In the distance, a body sinks into the depths, boneless in the way that only the dead are. There’s no room for guilt inside me. While I have pity for those who have been forcibly conscripted by the Cŵn Annwn, the reality is that we have no way of knowing who is a potential ally and who is an enemy intent on our deaths.
If they come at us, we have to kill them.
The thought makes me sick, but I’ll have the luxury to feel guilt later. If we survive this. Right now, I have to focus on getting Lizzie to that hole and inside. She’s resisting me, her body tight and tense as I tow her toward it. Because she doesn’t trust me to be able to take care of myself without her looking over my shoulder.
Pride is a wicked thing, and even at this point, I’m victim to it. I am so damned tired of being considered a victim. A selkie who lost their skin, a cliché that hurts me right down to my heart. Reclaiming that part of myself has gone a long way to heal that, but the wound still aches inside me. I won’t let her experience even a sliver of the same regret by passing up this chance to reclaim what she lost.
Lizzie makes a sound and her fingers dig in tighter to my harness, but I’m having none of it. I twist my body back on itself and shove her into the hole, pushing her with my tail until she’s all the way through. And then I dive again, taking refuge in the darkness below. If someone comes to investigate or attempt to patch the hole, I will deal with them. But my job now is to wait until Lizzie and Siobhan have returned and then get them to safety.
Even so, part of me expects to see Lizzie back through the hole, diving down to give me a piece of her mind. It’s not disappointment I feel when she doesn’t return. It’s worry. Foolish. Lizzie is the most efficient killer I’ve ever met, and she won’t hesitate to remove anyone standing between her and her goal. She’ll live through the night. I’m certain of it. I have to be.
A body hits the water, diving deep before it turns and shoots its way toward the hole. Even in the darkness, this person is moving too efficiently to be a kind of paranormal more comfortable on land. This must be the half mermaid, Lucky.
I wait until they have their back to me, their hands frantically touching along the hole, until they shoot back to the surface to give their report. Attempting to patch it from the inside is a fool’s errand. Even now, water will be rushing into the hull. The only way to patch it is from the outside. Which means that the mermaid will be returning.
Mermaid. I shudder at the thought. I have only seen mermaids once in my life, and once was more than enough. They frenzy, killing each other and their victims at the same time. They’re damn near unstoppable, not needing to surface to breathe, not needing to slow down. It defies belief that someone associated with one of them long enough to breed a half-human child. I desperately don’t want the details of that union.