Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

neck. Pounded in his temples. When more die . . .
     
    Maggie.
    He had to stop this thing before it reached Maggie. Before she realized Whittaker wasn’t on World’s End and came looking for him.
     
    He slid another foot forward, gauging the distance ( too great ) and his chances ( not good ).
     
    Keep talking .
     
    “Why would they care? I’ll be dead. You kill me, that evens the score.”
     
    Whittaker’s mouth flapped open. For a second, Caleb dared hope he’d gotten through to him or to the demon possessing him.
     
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    “Their deaths will not end with your death,” Tan said, rallying. “And by taking your life, I will convince the selkie prince that our interests lie together.”
     
    One step closer. All he needed was a distraction. A bird, a boat, another fucking flare . . .
     
    “Caleb!” Maggie’s cry rang over the water.
     
    Whittaker’s head jerked. Good enough.
     
    Caleb dove low and hard for the lawyer’s stomach and crashed with him onto the deck.
     

     
    The blast of the shot echoed over the water.
     
    Margred sobbed. “Hurry!”
     
    The boat sprang forward as Dylan summoned his power, calling the wind to fill the sails. Margred clutched the side with both hands, fear congealing in her stomach. Fear and guilt. She knew what Caleb faced.
    She should never have left him.
     
    Caleb and the thin man— Whittaker?—rolled around the cockpit, thrashing and thumping into the seats and sides.
     
    At least he was alive. Bleeding? Shot?
     
    Her throat constricted. She could not see .
    She lurched to her feet to get a better look, nearly pitching overboard as the sailboat came about.
     
    “Damn it, sit,” Dylan barked.
     
    She dropped to a seat, her heart forcing its way to her throat.
    “Hurry.”
     
    Over the rush of wind and water, through the roar in her head, she heard a scuffle. Fists. Grunts. Something thudded hard against the powerboat’s console. She flinched.
     
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    Dylan moved around her, working the lines with tight-lipped grace, his lean body gleaming with sweat and sunlight. Margred barely noticed him. All her attention was on the other boat. The other boat and Caleb.
     
    She strained to see him, to touch his spirit, to reassure herself he was alive.
     
    And then she felt it, acrid as ashes blowing in the wind, ominous as a stain in the water. Demon .
     
    Her heart plummeted from her throat to her stomach. Her hands twisted in her lap.
     
    Dylan sensed it, too. He looked at her, his face white. “Swamp them.”
     
    Summon the seas and bury them?
     
    Margred shook her head. “I cannot. Not without capsizing the boat and drowning your brother.”
     
    “Do it,” Dylan said. “Or I will.”
     
    She snarled. She could hear the sounds of struggle, a gasp, a thump, a grunt of pain. Honey, I can handle one middle-aged lawyer .
     
    But Whittaker would fight with the strength of the possessed. And Caleb could be hurt. Wounded. Bleeding.
     
    Margred stretched shaking hands toward the dock. “I must bind him.
    The demon.”
     
    “How?” Dylan demanded.
     
    She was not listening.
     
    Desperation flooded her veins. Her mind swam with fear. She pushed her worry aside, diving below the frantic surface of her thoughts, reaching deep within for the clear wellspring of power that bubbled from her soul. The magic responded, flowing over and in her like music, like water, fluid, sparkling, irresistible. Her element. Hers. With a glad cry, she opened her mouth to drink it in, flung wide her arms to embrace it.
     
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    The boat bumped into the dock, jarring her concentration.
     
    Dylan swore.
     
    Margred opened her eyes.
     
    Caleb was pinned against the side of the boat, one arm raised to deflect the demon’s blows. Shot. He’d been shot. His shoulder bloomed black with blood. His lip was split and bleeding. Whittaker loomed over him with a fierce, fixed grin, his fists battering, bruising. Hard. Again.
     
    Each dull impact struck her soul. The magic shattered and fled, leaving her empty, human, helpless. She wanted to throw up.
     
    The demon’s presence reached across the water like a furnace blast.
    Her courage dried up. Her resolution evaporated. Caleb warded the demon’s fists with his injured arm, his good hand wrapped around the demon’s throat. But blood dripped from his shoulder into the sea, and his arm trembled. He could not hold Hell at bay forever. He could die. He was dying.
     
    “Help him,” Margred screamed at