The Shadow of Mist Page 3

  “I don’t know,” I said softly. “The Pod is old-fashioned. We may be the Weres who cling to tradition most. Many of the selkie and roane still don’t interact with humans as much as other shifters do, and to be honest, we aren’t even like most other Weres. We aren’t ruled by the moon—not our shifting, at least.”

  Camille let out a long sigh. “The Pod could also make life a bitch for your baby, and for Mitch. Speaking of, you said you haven’t told Mitch about this yet? Big mistake. You can’t leave him out of this or he’ll resent you for it.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure what the hell to do. We’re supposed to get married as soon as the baby’s born. Now I wonder, will he leave me? Will he side with the Pod?”

  “You’re borrowing trouble. Siobhan, I know you think solving this means just getting Terrance out of the way before anybody finds out about him, but what if he moves before we can nail him? What if he calls Mitch at work or shows up at the door?”

  I knew she was right, but I couldn’t even begin to think about how I was going to tell Mitch I’d fabricated a large part of my past. Sweetie, I lied to you about almost everything from my past, but it’s no big deal . . . “No. If we find Terry first—”

  Delilah dove in. “That’s a big if. You have to realize that if Terrance knows your cell phone number, he’s got to have done his homework. He’s been stalking you for over a hundred years, and stalkers don’t usually care about the feelings of their victim’s loved ones.”

  She motioned for me to stand and—not knowing what else to do—I stood. Delilah put her arm around my shoulder and I stared up at the towering Amazon of a woman. When I first met her, she was gentle, a kitten at heart, but I could tell she’d hardened over the past year or so. Camille, too. They looked tired, weary even when they were laughing.

  “Here,” she said, easing me in front of the mirror in the hallway. “Look at yourself. Look at your tummy. You have a child inside there—one you came by only after a long, hard time. Are you going to put her in danger? Are you going to chance your daughter’s survival because you’re afraid your fiancé will be angry at you?”

  As I stared at my reflection, I let out a long sigh. She was right. They both were, and I had to face facts. “I’ll tell Mitch tonight when he gets home.”

  “Good. Meanwhile, we’ll nose around and see what we can find. We need to know everything you can remember about Terrance’s tastes, hobbies—anything that might help us get a lead on him.”

  As we returned to the kitchen, I realized that this problem wasn’t going to disappear just because I was in denial. I sank into my seat and began to tell them everything I could remember.

  “Terry liked to fish, of course—all our men were fishermen, and most of the roane, too. After all, who knows the sea better than a selkie or roane or one of the Finfolk?”

  I poured tea—caffeinated for Camille, herbal for Delilah and me—and set out a plate of shortbread. I made the best shortbread in the city; of that I was sure. Coworkers were always begging me to bring a batch to parties.

  “What’s the difference between the Finfolk and the selkies or roane?” Camille asked. “Back in Otherworld, selkies are considered part of the Weres rather than the Fae. But Finfolk?”

  “Selkies and roane are odd among the Weres, in that we have our seal suits. We don’t fully shift over like you, for example.” I pointed at Delilah. “You, now, even your clothes make the shift in the form of a collar. The selkies don’t have that one hundred percent transformation rate. And we don’t shift on cue from the moon.”

  “I always wondered why.”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I’ve never known a water creature to shift fully over—at least, not a water animal, not one ruled by anything other than the Ocean Mother herself. But the Finfolk . . . they fully transform, but they also never take full animal form. They’re part fish, part humanoid in their natural state.”

  “Wait—are they also called the Meré?” Camille perked up. “If so, then I understand what you’re saying.”

  “Could be. Mermen, mermaids? They can take human form for only a short time compared to selkies—a few days in between returning to the sea. But they’re . . .”

  “Mean.” Camille grimaced. “Mean, nasty, and up to no good. In Otherworld, the Meré are considered Fae, but they aren’t welcome near most towns. In fact, most of our port cities have guards to watch out for them because the men are . . . well . . . a lot like Terrance. You’re right—there is a resemblance there. I wonder if he has mixed blood. Roane Meré?” She gave me a look that told me she really didn’t want to hear a yes.

  “That would explain a lot,” I said, holding my stomach. “And if that’s the case, if he even has a tiny sprinkling of Meré in his blood, then he’ll rip out my child and sacrifice it without hesitation. The Meré are possessive, and once they decide something—or someone—is theirs, they do everything possible to keep it that way. A child from another man would make a Meré wild with jealousy. My baby would be a sitting duck.”

  “Do you think there’s a chance? Even a faint one?” Delilah looked up, alert. “If so, we’d better get you some protection.”

  I stared at the table. Could he have Finfolk blood in his veins? It couldn’t be much or he’d have to be in the water more than I remembered. But then, I hadn’t known him very long. We’d gone for a walk, he’d raped me, then offered to marry me to even the score. It had taken less than a month for my parents to settle with him on the wedding payment. In all that time, I’d seen him for only a few hours here and there. Just long enough to know I wanted to kill him, but not long enough to know whether he spent a lot of time cruising the waves.

  “I don’t know, but it’s possible.” I looked up. “At this point, I’m willing to believe anything.”

  “Why don’t you show me your computer?” Delilah said.

  I led her into the living room where we kept the desk with the computer on it. “Here it is—but why?”

  “Because I want to check for spyware, for Trojans, for worms, for anything he might have sent you. There are so many ways to hack into someone’s computer that it’s scary. And if he’s after all the information on you he can find . . .” She left the thought unfinished but I saw what she was getting at.

  I curled up on the sofa, not wanting to know how far Terry had insinuated himself into my life without me realizing it. As I sat there, watching Delilah tap away at the keys, the reality of what was happening began to hit home. Terrance was really back in my life.

  I glanced at the clock. Mitch should be home soon and I’d have to tell him what happened. “Can you guys stick around and help me explain?” I looked at Camille, as I picked at the hangnail on my thumb. “I know you’re busy but I just . . .”

  “You’re afraid,” she said. “Not of Mitch, but of what he might say?”

  I nodded. “I lied to him. Not fully, but I sure didn’t tell him everything. And I know he’ll understand but what if . . . what if . . .”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  Again, I nodded. “What if he decides to leave me? To leave his child?”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Delilah said. “Mitch is—Hello, what do we have here? Siobhan, has your computer been running a little slow lately?”

  I frowned, thinking back. Mitch mainly used it to play World of Warcraft with his buddies, but I checked my e mail, did a little online shopping, kept my diary on it.

  “Yeah, it has. For about a month. Mitch said maybe we need to defrag it but I’m not sure what that means. I can use Outlook and I can write in my journal and surf the Web but I don’t know much else about how a computer runs.”

  “E-mail? Do you get a lot of spam mail?” She frowned, tapping away at the keys.

  “Gods, yes. I delete probably fifty a day.”

  “You should get Gmail. It has to work better than what you’re using right now. You say you do a lot of online shopping? What about online banking?” Delilah looked worried now, th
e black crescent scythe tattoo on her forehead flashing silver.

  “Yeah, why?” I sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think . . .” she started to say, then paused and moved the mouse a few more times. “I think you’ve been hacked. There are a few processes going on in your task manager that I don’t recognize and they look suspicious to me.”

  “Oh great gods, do you think Terrance is responsible?”

  She shrugged. “Could be. I’m not positive that I’m right, though. I’d like to call Tim Winthrop over to take a look. He’d be able to tell better than me. Do you mind?”

  Tim was a good friend of the D’Artigos. He was a female impersonator, though I heard he was giving it up, and he’d recently married his long term partner, Jason Binds. Mitch and I’d been invited to the wedding.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  As Delilah flipped open her cell phone, I glanced at the clock again. Mitch should have called by now. I turned around, kneeling on the sofa to stare out the window at the rain thundering against the pavement.

  Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. I had a sudden, intense urge to head out to the Sound, to slip on my skin and dive deep in the water, seeking shelter in the depths of the inlet. Every time I felt threatened, that was the first thing that came to mind—hide, run to the Ocean Mother’s bosom, and let her hold me tight.

  “Tim will be over in about half an hour,” Delilah said, breaking my thoughts. “He’s bringing all his diagnostic gear with him. If anybody can figure out what’s going on with your computer, he can.”

  Camille picked up the tea tray and carried it into the kitchen. “I’ll make us some more tea,” she said.

  “Thank you. Everything feels so surreal. I can’t believe this is happening—” I was cut off by the phone ringing. Mitch! It had to be him. I grabbed the handset and punched the Talk button. “Hello? Mitch?”

  The voice on the other end was one I didn’t recognize. A woman, she sounded professional, and yet there was something about her voice that scared me. “Am I speaking to Siobhan Morgan?”

  “Yes . . . Who’s calling?” Suspicion suddenly hit me in the gut. What if she was working with Terry; what if—

  “My name is Amanda Bernard and I’m a nurse with InterLake Hospital. I’m calling about a Mr. Mitchell Childs. Do you know him?”

  Hospital? Mitch? Oh hell.

  “He’s my fiancé. We live together. What’s wrong? Is he okay?” Panic replaced suspicion and I stiffened, trying not to cry. The hormones from being pregnant sure weren’t helping me to remain calm.

  “Mr. Childs has been injured. We need you to come in and give us information on his medical background. He seems to be part of the Supernatural Community. We have an Otherworld healer on hand—an elfin doctor—but we can use any background information you can give us. He needs treatment now.”

  “He’s a selkie. Tell the doctor that. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Choking back tears, I added, “Is he . . . Is the injury serious? What can you tell me?”

  Her voice was soft as she said, “You should be prepared. He’s been extensively injured. I won’t mince words, Ms. Morgan. He’s in serious condition, though we aren’t sure as to just what extent. He’s unconscious at the moment. We found your name in his wallet as his emergency contact.”

  I hung up, a searing heat racing through me. The man I was in love with was lying in the hospital and I had the horrible feeling that it hadn’t been an accident. I turned mutely to Camille and Delilah.

  Camille turned off the stove. “I’ll take you to the hospital. Delilah, you stay here and wait for Tim.” She held up my jacket and I silently let her tuck me into it; then she gathered up my purse and pushed me gently out the door.

  “Where is he?”

  “InterLake Hospital,” I said, trying to find my voice.

  She slid me into the passenger seat of her Lexus and I fumbled for the seat belt as she jumped in the driver’s seat. “Breathe, Siobhan. He’s alive, and he’s under medical care. I want you to get my cell phone out of my purse and look for Chase Johnson’s number under my contact list. Tell him you’re with me, and who you are, and ask him to bring Sharah and meet us at the hospital.”

  I followed directions, mouthing the words, hearing Chase’s concerned voice on the other end, and then hung up. Camille didn’t say anything else; she just focused on navigating through the heavy rain while I stared out the window, remembering the first time I realized I had fallen in love with Mitch Childs.

  3

  It was 1998, and I’d integrated myself into the Puget Sound Harbor Seal Pod. They’d accepted me as a member, with my slightly altered résumé, and I once again sank into the comfort of belonging to a tribe. It had been eighty-one years since I’d had a group to call my own, and over those intervening years, I’d worked my way down one coastline and up the other, alone and lonely.

  I’d adapted as my new land grew and evolved. I’d been everything from a maid during my first few years, to a candy-and-cigarette girl at a nightclub during the war, to an admin assistant at a law firm during the sixties, to a yoga teacher during the eighties.

  But I’d never applied for any job that would place me too much in the public view, and while I returned to my real name after a while, I’d managed to navigate the underground labyrinth of changing licenses and social security numbers. I flew under the radar because, like all Fae and Weres, I aged more slowly than humans. It wasn’t wise to let yourself be high profile. People would start with whispers; then came the rumors. Hair dye could take care of the hair, but until recently, Botox and plastic surgery weren’t viable options to explain away the smooth skin and clear eyes.

  Once I found the Pod, I’d decided to stick around the Seattle area, and I applied for a job with the state. I made the decision to finally go the route of using wigs and carefully applied makeup to age myself enough to be believable until retirement, at which point I’d have a good thirty years before having to reinvent myself again.

  And then, I met Mitch. Mitchell Childs, who was a sturdy, muscled selkie with blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair. He was part of the Puget Sound Harbor Seal Pod, though not highly placed. And with one look in his eyes, I was lost. Within a week, we had tumbled into a whirlwind affair.

  “Siobhan,” he said, wrapping his arms around me the first time we stood alone together by the side of the inlet, staring out into the moonlit night. “I’ve been waiting for you. I didn’t know who you would be, or where you would come from, but I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone like you.”

  He kissed me, his soft lips pressing gently against mine, his arms pulling me into the heart of his embrace, and in the flow of his kiss the world stopped and I knew life would never be the same. I would never be the same. This was the love I’d been looking for. This was my magic man, my love from the sea, the one who could sweep me off my feet and carry me away and I’d never, ever protest.

  No man had touched me since Terrance. I’d made sure of that. And there had been no one before Terrance. Terrified but unable to turn away, I’d invited Mitch into my world, let him woo me and bed me and love me. But I’d kept my secrets. My past remained sealed, behind closed doors I’d locked so tight that I thought nothing could rip them open again.

  A few years later, when the portals from Otherworld opened, Supes, Fae, and vampires flooded the world, coming out of the closet in droves, and I began to think that Mitch and I could have a life together, out in the open, and that I wouldn’t have to shed my persona with my skin.

  Until now.

  And now everything threatened to be swept away by the same malignant force that had snuffed out my life in Ireland. The Pod could revoke my membership if they wanted; they could send me away. And Mitch—would he turn his back on me and the child we’d fought so hard to conceive?

  And now—now Mitch might die.

  With tears pouring down my cheeks, images of the past flipped through my mind like a deck of cards in the wind. I couldn�
��t lose him. And I wouldn’t let Terrance win.

  Grimly, I turned to Camille, whose gaze was fastened on the road. “Whatever it takes, I want Terrance out of the picture. I know he’s involved in this. I know he hurt Mitch. And if I’m right, I want him dead and buried so deep he’ll never climb out of the grave to see the world again. Will you help me?”

  She flickered a glance my way, then back to the road. “You know what you’re asking, right?”

  I bit my lip. I wasn’t like Camille or her sisters. My life wasn’t steeped in danger every day, and I wasn’t a fighter like they were. I was just Siobhan Morgan, data entry operator for the state. But I was also selkie—a daughter of the Ocean Mother—and someone I loved was in danger. Time to step up to the plate.

  “I know what I’m asking. Whatever you tell me to do, I’ll do it. I love Mitch, and I’m not going to let Terry ruin my life with him, or our baby’s life. I don’t know much about fighting, Camille, but you tell me to jump and I’ll jump.”

  She sighed. “Well, then, I promise you this: We’ll do everything possible to find him and put him out of commission. And Siobhan, make no mistake—if we go looking for him and find him, we’ll have to kill him. Because men like him, be they FBH—full-blooded human—or Fae . . . or Were . . . they don’t give up. He’s stalked you for a hundred years over thousands of miles. He’s not going to quit. Especially not now that he’s found you.”

  “I know,” I said. “I know.”

  The nurse led Camille and me to Mitch’s bedside. I’d call the Pod leader and Mitch’s parents as soon as I found out what was going on, but right now, I wanted to see if he was conscious, if he could remember anything. But he lay there, silent and unmoving, his body wrapped in bandages and his eyes closed in a deep sleep.