The Shadow of Mist (8 page)

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.

After 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.

I sucked in a deep breath. Camille tensed.

As Keith knelt down, I quickly backed away to give Camille room. She rolled over, arms up with fingers locked in a claw condition. In one smooth motion, she sprang into a sitting position and raked her long nails down his face, drawing blood.

Keith screamed and dropped the vial to the floor, where it smashed as he shoved himself away from her attack.

Camille leapt to her feet and I followed suit as Lon came lunging forward. She threw herself headlong at him, taking him down as she caught his legs with her foot and yanked, throwing him off balance. I frantically glanced around and saw the broken vial. Grabbing it up by the neck where it was still intact, I slashed it across his face. Blood spurted in a fountain and I stared in horror as he writhed, screaming and trying to cover his face.

Camille gave me a terse look, nodded, then raised her arms over her head. She clasped her hands into a solid fist, and brought them down hard, right across his nose.
Crack.
Flesh impacted on flesh and my stomach churned as I stared at the terrifying passion that filled her face. I was about to drop the bottle, to turn away and vomit, but she darted a glance at me.

“
Don't you dare, Siobhan!
I need your help!”

Her voice was so forceful that it startled me out of my horror—and just in time. Keith was coming around again, this time armed with a nasty-looking dagger.

We didn't stick around. Camille slammed open the door, grabbed my hand, and yanked me out into a parking lot near the Sound. The water was being whipped into a fury by the wind that had sprung up, and dusk had fallen. I could barely see the waves but I could hear them, and they called to my blood.

As soon as we landed on the ground, Terrance came around the RV, a leering smile on his face.

Camille shoved me behind her and began muttering what sounded like an incantation. I hastily put more distance between us—her spells were powerful, but sometimes they backfired and the results were seldom pretty. Terrance backed up as her voice rose, his eyes widening.

At that moment, Keith landed beside me and grabbed me, the dagger at my throat. “Stop now or the selkie gets it.”

Camille whirled around, a smirk curling the tips of her lips. “I don't think so. Terrance would kill you if you harmed her.” And then, without another word, she swung on Terrance and let loose a bolt of energy that lit up the gloom. Terrance shrieked and dove for cover, and in that moment, Keith let go of me and lunged for Camille, slashing at her with his blade. He caught her arm. I heard her groan and smelled blood.

At that moment, Delilah's Jeep screeched into the lot, followed by a Jaguar. Menolly was up! I almost burst into tears. The vampire could make mincemeat of our attackers all by her lonesome. As I stumbled toward Camille, Keith let go of her and began to back away.

I looked back to see not only Menolly, but also Smoky—Camille's six-foot-four, almost-albino dragon lover and husband—emerge from the car. His hair hung to his ankles, and now it swirled around him like a hundred hissing snakes.
Oh shit
. Terrance and his buddies really
were
dead men now.

I started to run toward Delilah when Terrance suddenly lunged forward and caught me around the waist. He forced something in my mouth—a sponge of some sort—and began dragging me to the railing. I struggled but he was a lot stronger than I, and even though Menolly raced toward us at breakneck speed, he was able to haul me over the railing before she got there.

I tried to scream, but the sponge began to melt and I tasted waterweed. Oh hell—he was taking me into the water as a human. I could swim, but without my seal suit, I'd be totally at his mercy. I struggled harder, scraping my shins on the wooden railing, but within seconds we were falling over the edge.