Children of the Sea 02 - Sea Fever

him.
     
    Only, of course, he could not go.
     
    He rode the rolling waves toward the deserted shore. Conn had charged him to discover what the demons wanted on World’s End. For the past two weeks, Dylan had eavesdropped, observed, and tramped all over the island, hoping to find some trace of demonkind, some clue to their purpose.
     
    To the immortal seaborn, the time was nothing. But Dylan was dying by minutes, trapped in his human body, trapped by his human family, trapped on this fucking island, forced to watch Regina joke and work behind the counter, her long slim legs, her strong firm arms, always in motion, always just beyond his reach.
     
    Frustration drove him onto the rocks. He hauled himself onto the stony beach as the surf exploded around him. The water drained away, and Dylan stood naked in the foam, his webbed toes gripping the sand, his sealskin swirling around his ankles.
     
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    He stooped to drag his pelt from the sea; froze.
     
    Something was wrong. He could sense it. Smell it. He straightened slowly.
     
    The air was thick and still. Under the August sun, the island gave off heat like a beast breathing. Dylan tested and tasted the wind, feeling the tickle of ash in the back of his throat.
     
    His hackles rose. Demon.
     
    In the air.
     
    On the island.
     
    Among humans.
     
    Dylan’s lips pulled back from his teeth. Retrieving his clothes from their hiding place, he began to dress.
     
    Finally, he could hunt.
     
    *
     
    Regina lay cold and curled on her side, clinging to sleep like a blanket. Pain in her head, in her cramped legs and shoulders. Burning in her throat. Her mouth was dry, her tongue thick and swollen. She tried to swallow, and the fire in her throat woke her.
     
    Oh my God, oh my God . . .
     
    And then, Nicky.
     
    Instinct surged, quicker than memory. Her muscles tensed. She had to run. To fight. To protect Nicky.
     
    The thought jolted her eyelids open.
     
    Dark. She was somewhere dark and gritty, damp and cold. She began to shake. Basement? No. There was an outside feel to the air, an outside smell, earth and rock and water. She could hear it, water lapping.
     
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    Where was she? Where was Jericho? Why was it so dark? She blinked, straining her eyes against the blackness. Even on a cloudy night, she should see a hint of moon, the reflection of the water.
     
    She struggled to sit, pushing herself upright with her palms against the cold, flat surface, taking cautious inventory. She wasn’t tied up. That was good. She had all her clothes on. Even better. Despite various scrapes and bruises, she didn’t think she had been raped. Yet.
     
    She swallowed convulsively. Agony.
     
    Her cracked lips parted without sound. Her heart pounded.
     
    Must not cry out. Must not scream. Jericho might be nearby.
    Sleeping? What if he was only waiting for her to wake up before he came back to do—
    Her mind stumbled, teetering on the edge of panic. He could do whatever he wanted to her. Unless she found a way to stop him. To escape.
     
    A tiny sound escaped her bruised throat. Her scrapes burned, bloody in the dark. She bit her lip hard, digging her nails into the gritty floor, curling her hands into fists, shuddering against the cold.
     
    Think of Nick. Don’t panic. Think.
     
    She was hurt in the dark. She was alone. For now.
     
    So. She better make the most of the time she had.
     
    She crawled shakily to her knees.
     
    *
     
    As Caleb drove inland, the oversized cottages of the summer people gradually gave way to the older, smaller houses of year-round residents.
     
    Detective Evelyn Hall, State Criminal Investigation Division, rode shotgun beside him. Hall, square and weathered as a barn, had come with the evidence team. Caleb’s surprise at seeing her step off the ferry must
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    have shown, because she’d said, “Seems women on your island can’t catch a break.”
     
    Caleb had smiled grimly, acknowledging the dig. Only months after he accepted the position of police chief on World’s End, Maggie had been attacked and the selkie Gwyneth’s naked, dead body had been discovered on the beach. Now Regina was missing.
     
    Evelyn Hall had suspected Caleb in the earlier attacks. But she was the only female officer available to him, and if— when— they found Regina Barone, Caleb wanted a woman with him.
     
    Hall nodded out the Jeep window at a soaring A-frame perched above a rock face. “Nice little place.”
     
    Her tone was still dry, but Caleb recognized