The Shadow of Mist Read online

  On the other hand, if I really wanted him gone, it meant taking care of him without anybody else finding out. I shook my head.

  “No. We play it the way we were thinking about. Marion, thanks for the offer, but we’ll call our friends on the way and have them meet us. It’s enough that you’re giving us the chance to escape. I’ll explain everything later.” I ducked into the tunnel and blew a kiss at the Were. “Anything I can do for you, let me know.”

  She laughed. “Just name your firstborn after me,” she said, shutting the door behind us.

  As the sounds of the bar were muffled by the thick bookshelf, I let out a long sigh and flicked the switch on the flashlight. The light beat a steady beam down the corridor and I breathed a little easier.

  “We’ve got a bit of a walk in front of us,” I said, glancing down at my pumps ruefully.

  Camille held out her foot. She was wearing stilettos. “Don’t even talk to me about painful footwear,” she said, smiling. “Come on, let’s get moving. I wonder if I can get cell reception down here. If not, we’ll have to wait till we come out into the open to call for a ride.”

  As we started through the musty tunnel, fresh air piped in from somewhere above. How many people had used this getaway? And for what? Whom had they been fleeing from? But try as I might, I couldn’t get my mind off Terrance. He’d decided to make his move before I had time to plan. His call had just been a terror tactic, and it had worked. And I knew him well enough to know that he’d stop at nothing to get me back.

  4

  The tunnel seemed to go on forever, but in reality we were walking for only about fifteen minutes. Camille’s cell phone didn’t work in the underground passage, and neither did mine, so we walked in silence, pushing forward with Camille behind me, keeping an eye over her shoulder. After five minutes, I let out a long breath. After ten, I began to relax. Maybe we’d gotten away after all. I sure hoped Terrance didn’t tear up Camille’s car, though, in his anger that he hadn’t been able to catch us.

  Fifteen minutes and we were at the end of the passage, facing a series of steps that led us up to a door with a one-way lock on it. Locked from the inside, we could get out, but once we did and the door swung shut, we wouldn’t be able to duck back in.

  “Don’t let the door close,” I whispered. “Not until we know it’s safe.” I cautiously pushed it open a crack and peeked out. I was looking into what appeared to be a women’s restroom. There was no one in sight. I pushed the door open and stepped out. Camille followed me.

  “Wait here,” she said, leaving me to hold the door as she raced over to the outer door leading . . . well, wherever it led.

  I glanced around the room. Four stalls, dull green, two sinks with faucets. And these were old-fashioned faucets—no run your hands under the sink and make the water come out technology here. A paper towel dispenser and a spartan-looking mirror hung on the wall. Track lighting illuminated the room with fluorescent lights. Windows lined the upper wall, letting in some natural light. Yeah, this was a utilitarian bathroom, all right.

  Camille dashed back. “It’s okay. We’re in the women’s restroom for Westmeyer Park. You get back in the tunnel and keep the door open a crack. I’m going to step outside and call Delilah to come pick us up.”

  I nodded, waiting as she disappeared out the front. A couple minutes later, she was back. “She’s on her way. She left Tim at your apartment. He’s still fooling around with your computer.”

  I let out a long sigh. “That’s fine.” I was tired; my back was killing me from walking in pumps—ever since I’d become pregnant I’d longed for flats, and all I wanted was to sit down somewhere and cry.

  Camille noticed and wrapped her arm around me. “Oh, Siobhan, everything will be all right. You wait and see.” She cocked her head. “I think I hear a car. Come on, it must be Delilah. The parking lot is just a few feet away from here.”

  I reluctantly let the tunnel door swing shut. The dark passage might be creepy but it had provided us a haven, and right now I needed shelter from the storms raging in my life.

  As Camille opened the outer door, she let out a startled cry. “Run! Siobhan, run!”

  Someone slammed the door open, sending Camille flying against the wall. She screamed as she hit the concrete and slumped to the ground, where she shook her head, dazed.

  I whirled back to the tunnel but too late—the door was closed and there was no getting in. With no other exits in the restroom, I ran toward a stall, thinking to lock myself in and maybe buy a few seconds.

  The swift scent of ozone filled the air as Camille shouted and a blast ricocheted against the walls. Freezing, I paused; then a man swore and, again, Camille shrieked.

  “Siobhan, you might as well give it up. You’re coming with me.”

  That voice, I knew.

  “Terrance?” I turned, knowing that no matter what I did, it would be too little, too late.

  Three men stood there: Terrance, along with two other men I recognized instantly by their scent as being full blooded Finfolk.

  Terrance motioned to them. “Keith, grab the Faerie bitch. Lon, keep watch.”

  The one named Keith grabbed Camille up in a bear hug, clapping a hand over her mouth as she struggled. The other took up guard on the door.

  I stared at Terrance as he slowly walked toward me. It had been a long time since I’d looked into those cold, blue eyes.

  “Just leave us alone. I’m not going with you. You can’t force me to go with you.” I backed up toward the wall, petrified. The look on his face was maleficent, his lips curled into a snarl.

  “Oh, you’re coming with me, and as soon as we get rid of the whelp bastard you’ve got locked up in that oven, I’ll get you with my own child and that will seal the deal.” His eyes glimmered and he chuckled softly. “I’ve followed you for too long, over too many miles, to even think of letting you go now.”

  “No, don’t hurt my baby. Please don’t hurt my baby.” I crossed my hands over my stomach. But then, fear turned to anger. This was my child, Mitch’s child, and if Terrance tried to hurt it, I’d rip him to shreds. “Get out of here or I swear, Terrance, I’ll kill you.”

  He laughed again. “Right, you go on thinking that. No, my dear, you’re coming with me and so is your friend. I know plenty of people who’d pay a pretty penny to give her a ride.”

  “You’re part Finfolk, aren’t you? You’ve got Meré blood in you!”

  As he walked me back against the wall, one step at a time, he reached out and caught my chin in his hands. He stroked my cheek with one finger, hooking it lightly over my lower lip. “You finally see me clearly, my beautiful selkie princess. Now, it’s time to come home with me.” The way he said the word princess stopped me short. It wasn’t an endearment. No, there was something else behind his words.

  “Princess?”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Your mother never told you, did she?” Terrance laughed roughly. “Ah well, I don’t blame her. Your father’s folk were a rough lot—coarse and stinking up the sea. Your mother probably thought she was doing you a favor, but the truth will out, won’t it?”

  “What truth?” I’d been lying so long that I half believed my own stories, but now he was claiming that my mother had lied to me?

  “Your blood gives you a direct lineage to nobility on her side of the family. You’re in line for the throne within the Isle of Man Selkie Pod. Since you ran away from your father’s people and turned your back on them, you have the option to return home and claim your heritage and right of kinship.”

  He couldn’t be right. My mother, a princess? And now me, in line for the throne?

  “Wait—my mother! Isn’t she the one who should rise to power if there’s a change in rulership? If you harm her—”

  He twisted my arm just enough to hurt. “Pipe down. Your mother’s fine. But she knowingly turned her back on her own Pod and pledged herself to your father’s people. She can’t return home now.”

  “I’m pledged to
the Puget Sound Harbor Seal Pod—”

  “Ah, but you have the choice to return to your mother’s people because she never told you about them. Which you will do. Then, when I marry you, I’ll have one of the most powerful groups of selkies under my control, via your own sweet self. You, my dear, are my ticket to ruling the waves. After that, it’s a short step to the Finfolk taking over your people, just like we did the Cobh roane. My father married into the Pod. He was half Finfolk, and now we control them. We’ll reign terror over the seas. At last, do you understand why I chased you for a hundred years? There’s more at stake than just a pretty pussy. My people wait for me back home. And your people wait in fear that I’ll find you. They’ve finally figured out just who my family is.”

  “You’re crazy,” I said. “I’m no princess—”

  “But you are, in your own right. Even if you never married me, you’ve got the blood of queens flowing through your body. Your father had no idea of just who he captured when he went seeking a mate.”

  I let out a small cry, thinking about my mother and what she’d told me. So she hadn’t been lying. Father had stolen her away from her own people. No wonder he had no reservations about handing me over to Terrance; rape and pillage were all too familiar to his people.

  “Oh yes,” Terrance said softly. “I know all about your mother and how your father found her, raped her, and took her to wife. And the kicker is: She never told your father she’s royalty. Probably didn’t want the old man to use her like I’m planning to use you. Accept it, little selkie. Women in our world are a commodity. We men can buy you and sell you at the turn of a whim. And you, my dear, are a valuable treasure.”

  And then he nodded over his shoulder at Camille. “If you don’t come voluntarily, she’s dead. I don’t care how much my men might fancy her. She’s expendable, and you’re not. So it’s up to you. Come with me without fighting, or I slit her throat.”

  He pulled out a thick-bladed knife with serrated edges. I cringed. He’d make it hurt. I knew him. He wouldn’t kill her quickly; he’d make me watch and she’d die in a wash of blood and water.

  “No,” I whispered. “Don’t. Don’t hurt her. I’ll come with you.” I’d figure a way to escape, but for now, I couldn’t let him kill one of my closest friends. One of the women who’d gone out of her way to help me.

  “That’s better.” Terrance stuck the blade back in the sheath attached to his belt. He snorted. “Amazing how soft you are. If it had been me, I’d say go ahead and do her. No matter. All the better for me.”

  “That, Terrance, is the difference between us,” I said softly. “You’d let a friend die to save yourself. I understand the nature of loyalty.”

  I shuddered as he dragged me along by the wrist. His lackeys held tight to Camille, keeping her mouth covered. The one energy blast had been enough to warn them she wielded magic, and they weren’t taking any chances.

  And then we were headed out the door, into the rain that had once again picked up, sweeping in off the inlet.

  Terrance’s men shoved Camille into the back of a short RV that was waiting in the parking lot, then crawled in to gag her and tie her up. My stomach clenched. The Finfolk would have a field day with her, and Terrance wouldn’t lift a hand to stop them. They’d use her, then play water games with her, letting her nearly drown over and over again until they grew tired with the sport and finished her off. Finfolk fed off of fear, and their sadistic natures weren’t satisfied for long.

  As Terrance shoved me toward the RV, I heard a shout and jerked around as Delilah jumped out of her Jeep. I opened my mouth and let out a sharp scream, but Terrance sent his hand whistling against my cheek, and the blow stunned me into silence. He pulled me over to the open door and tossed me in to the men. I stumbled, wrapping my arms around my stomach to protect my baby. The one called Keith hauled me inside and I had one fleeting glimpse of Delilah shouting something as she raced our way before the door slammed shut.

  Terrance climbed into the driver’s seat up front.

  “Should we tie this one up, boss?” Lon stared at me, looking all too excited by the prospect.

  “Nah,” Terrance said. “She can’t use magic, and she knows what I’ll do to her friend if she tries anything. Just keep an eye on her.”

  And then, with the squeal of brakes and tires, we were zooming past Delilah. I could see her through the front windshield. In fact, Terrance took aim at her and I let out a sharp cry, but then she dove to the left at the last minute and he ignored her, plowing out of the parking lot.

  Camille struggled, trying to sit up. Lon unceremoniously smacked her a good one and she fell back. He laughed as she lay prone and reached up her skirts. I let him have it right across the nose with my nails, which were nice, tough gels—hard and sharp-edged.

  “Bitch!” he said, but he didn’t touch me and I realized that unless Terrance gave them the go ahead, they weren’t going to mess with me. I scooted beside Camille, keeping her behind me.

  “Leave her alone.” I glared at Lon. He glanced over his shoulder at Terrance, who was focused on driving.

  “Stupid cu—”

  “Shut up back there!” Terrance didn’t even turn back to see what the commotion was. “I’m trying to shake that golden haired bitch who’s on our tail.”

  Delilah! It had to be Delilah! The fact that she was following us gave me courage. I glanced down at Camille, who looked up in my eyes. She softly turned so that her back was facing me. I saw that they’d tied her hands behind her and realized that if I scooted closer, I might be able to work the knots free while they weren’t looking. And that meant lulling them into the belief that I was cooperating. But I couldn’t be too obvious about it.

  I gazed at Lon. “I won’t be a bother if you just leave us alone during the ride. Please? I’m just so tired . . . my baby . . .” I let my voice drift off and widened my eyes. Make a bully feel powerful and sometimes he’ll be generous.

  I was in luck. He stared at me for a moment; then a smirk settled across his face. “Yeah, sure, whatever. We’ll have time enough with her soon. I wonder what she’ll bring on the market.”

  Trying not to grimace, I checked out our surroundings. The RV had been retrofitted. It sure wasn’t a luxury hangout; that was for sure. A table and bench seats, a cupboard unit, the bathroom, and a couple of other seats filled the interior, but most of the space had been gutted to make room for . . . well . . . for what, I didn’t know, but there were bloodstains on the floor and I had the feeling this home on wheels had been the scene of one too many accidents.

  Camille was lying close to the table. I leaned over her, resting my head against the wall of the RV.

  “I’m just going to rest for a moment,” I said.

  Lon shrugged and went back to whispering with Keith. As soon as he was focused on his conversation, I slid my right hand down to Camille’s ropes. I couldn’t risk using both my hands—they’d notice—but if I worked slowly, inch by inch, I could loosen the knots. Selkies were good with knot work—in fact, Celtic knot work was a specialty of ours, and during the seventies I’d been a big player in the macramé craze.

  I ran my fingers over the knots. Simple. Practical. Knotted for speed, not for long term bondage. I worried the biggest knot, using my thumb to brace it while I used the nails on my index and middle fingers to dig at it. The gels were strong and after a moment or so, the knot loosened a little. After a little more picking, it was loose enough for me to get my fingers through and pry open.

  Camille did her best to match my movements and ease the rope so I could catch hold of the slack. After a moment, I had the free end in my grasp and a couple of minutes later, I’d untied the knot. Camille gently worked her wrists until the binding cord fell away. I scooted forward enough to cover her so they couldn’t see what we’d done. She lay very still and I knew she was planning her next move. I closed my eyes to a slit, so it would look as though I was resting, but I could still see anybody coming up on us.

  Af
ter a while, the RV made a sharp curve to the right and I tensed. Even through the walls, I could smell the water. We were near the inlet, with the cloying scents of brine and seaweed decay.

  I sucked in a deep breath and whispered low, hoping the men couldn’t hear me, “We’re near the water.”

  Camille nodded. “Bide your time. Wait until we stop.”

  I touched her arm gently, to let her know I’d heard her, and went back to gathering my strength. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I’d take my cue from Camille. She was the one with experience in situations like this.

  Another minute or two and we began to slow down. I raised my head and turned toward the front. Terrance was focused on pulling into what looked like it might be a parking lot, though I wasn’t close enough to the windshield to see. Lon and Keith finished their talk. Keith, hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the roof, made his way up front where he slid into the passenger seat.

  “Get the waterweed ready,” Terrance said, and Keith grunted and returned to the back, where he foraged in the cupboard and came out with a jar full of cloudy liquid.

  I cringed. The Finfolk were skilled at making potions that would allow an air breather to live underwater, at least for a time, so they could have their fun with them. As the potion began to wear off, they’d start their drowning games until they grew bored and let their victim drown for real.

  When I still lived in the Orkneys, I’d known a couple of human women who had escaped from the Finfolk—a miracle in itself—and managed to make it back to land and escape before the Meré dragged them under one last and final time. But they’d been tortured so badly that they never fully recovered their senses.

  I tensed as Keith headed our way with the vial of waterweed potion. The RV came to a stop and I realized we had to do something soon, because any moment now, they’d realize Camille had gotten free from the ropes.