Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

accomplished.
     
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    Both selkies should be dead, their pelts destroyed.
     
    Tan needed to act quickly before the mer discovered his involvement.
     
    He shuddered. Or Hell lost patience.
     
    As much as it galled the demon to admit, there might be other, better ways to use the man Caleb than by taking him over. He was not completely unintelligent. He was clearly determined. He was close to the selkie Margred. And judging from his questions in the alley, he, too, sought the pelt.
     
    What if Tan allowed him to find it?
     
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Nineteen
     
    THE AIR WAS HEAVY AND HOT, THICK WITH grease and garlic, unrelieved by the whirring kitchen fans.
     
    Margred wiggled her swollen toes inside her sneakers, pretending to observe Antonia demonstrate how to cook clam strips in the deep fryer.
    Really she was watching the door.
     
    And the clock.
     
    One hour, twenty-seven minutes since Caleb had carried out the trash, promising to return. Eleven—no, twelve— minutes now since her shift had ended. She stank of smoke and sweat and crusted pots, and she wanted to go—
    Home .
     
    Her breath caught. Because in that instant she had not pictured the cold stone grandeur of Caer Subai or the sweet, cool freedom of the ocean.
     
    She saw a house, tucked like a secret beneath the tall pines, and a wide bed with a view of the sea shining beyond the wood-paned windows. Caleb’s house. Caleb’s bed.
     
    The vision rushed on her like a wave, stirring her to the depths, flowing and filling the empty chambers of her heart. She pressed the heel of her palm to her chest, almost dizzy with dismay and a lack of oxygen.
     
    She was selkie. She flowed as the sea flowed, following her whims and the currents. Ever changing. Eternal.
     
    Caleb was hewed of New England rock, upstanding as the old stone church at the head of the harbor, rooted as an oak. For all his selkie heritage, he belonged to the earth. To the island.
     
    Where did she belong?
     
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    She did not know. Only that in him, her restless heart had found harbor at last.
     
    “Are you paying attention, girl?” Antonia demanded.
     
    “No,” Margred admitted.
     
    “Moony eyes,” Antonia repeated in disgust.
     
    This time Margred did not bother to deny it.
     
    One hour, thirty-two minutes. Every sixty-second tick lay heavy on her heart.
     
    What if Caleb had found the demon? Or the demon had found him?
     
    Her throat felt tight. She moved her hand to her necklace, closing her fingers around the shell. Caleb was more vulnerable than he believed.
    And his danger made her vulnerable in ways she had never imagined.
     
    The door to the dining room banged open.
     
    Caleb , Margred thought with relief. Finally .
     
    But it was Regina who blew into the kitchen, her eyes stormy and red warning flags flying in her cheeks. Margred bit back her disappointment.
     
    Antonia raised the wire basket from the hot oil. “What bug is up your ass?”
     
    “That—reporter,” Regina spat the word, “just asked me if the lobster was fresh. Yes, I said. Local, he says. We’re on a freaking island off the coast of Maine. What does he think, we ship it from Florida?”
     
    “Did you take his order?” Antonia asked.
     
    "I took his head off,” Regina said. “Asshole. I’ll give him local lobster. ”
     
    “You’ll give him what he asks for,” Antonia said. “Then he gives you money. That’s how real restaurants work.”
     
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    “I don’t need you to tell me about restaurants.”
     
    Antonia crossed her arms. “Then why did you come back here?”
     
    Regina ran a hand through her short hair. “Because if I stay out there another minute, I’m gonna kill one of your precious paying customers.
    Which is no big loss, but I don’t want to set a bad example for Nicky.”
     
    “Fine.” Antonia whipped off her apron and thrust it at Regina.
    “You’re on the grill. Don’t try anything fancy.”
     
    “Yeah, God forbid I do something crazy, like use real herbs or make my own mayonnaise,” Regina muttered. She wrapped the apron strings around her narrow waist and shook salt over the clam strips, bumping Margred out of the way. “What are you still doing here?”
     
    Margred bristled defensively. “Waiting for Caleb.”
     
    “Aww, that’s so sweet.”
     
    She bared her teeth in a smile. “If you mock me, I will bite you.”
     
    Sympathetic laughter lightened Regina’s angular face. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Sucks, doesn’t